As I was talking to my sister on the ‘phone this afternoon, The Boys came in very excitedly and told me I was needed outside. I walked down the path towards the church and there, about twelve feet up a hawthorn tree, was a tiny, fluffy, black, mewing kitten, no more than twelve weeks old at a guess. It was obviously distressed and had been up there some time. Apparently it had been on the path the day before. The Boys had tried to tell me but I had been in a foul temper and wasn’t listening. “What do I look like? The Cats’ Bloody Protection League!” was my measured response.
A stepladder was brought and, standing on one tiptoe, half hanging from an upper, spiky branch, I retrieved it, swearing vilely as the thorns lacerated my sunburned arms and brought it home. It was fed and watered and put in Smog’s old blanket in Smog’s old basket. Smog spurns her basket now, preferring Boy the Younger’s head. I am very strict about no animals in bedrooms, but in this, as in many things, I am disregarded.
A note was hastily despatched to the village shop reading “Kitten Found. Please contact…” and I sincerely hope that I am contacted. And yet, and yet, I have this sneaking suspicion that no-one is going to call. She’s a dear little thing and I’m sure someone is missing her terribly. I have forbidden the boys to name her, particularly as Boy the Younger wants to call her Marion and Boy the Elder is hovering between Shadow and Yoshi. I will not be drawn.
Wartime Housewife 
I have to say I think Marion is a hysterically funny name for a cat.
It is a very odd name for a cat, but then you should hear the names my step-daughter has for her collection of reptiles!
Please please please don’t let Boy the Younger call the kitten Marion – I haven’t yet met anyone called Marion who I didn’t dislike on sight ! (sorry any readers out there called Marion – I’m sure YOU are lovely 🙂 )
Let’s just hope that the little thing gets claimed!
Bunty: Give me an example? Nice to hear from you again by the way.
STS: I’m with you all the way on that one; I’ve no idea where he’s got the idea from. I suggested Brenda or Kevin but this was dismissed.
Sue: In principle, Marion has an amusing ring, but in practice our father’s second and very nearly fourth wife was called Marion and she was a witch (and not in good way).
Out of interest, does anyone know which philosopher it was who put forward the theory that names affect the way people develop? Freelance and I were discussing this recently but we just couldn’t remember.
Well, there’s:-
Amelia the snake, Mark and Jeremy the white tree frogs and Henry the snail. Then there are the fire bellied toads called Gladys, Sybil, Eric, Ernest, Godfrey, Cedric and Eric. Many of these have been names after deceased relatives, although Amelia was named after her great-grandfather’s tarantula !
I have to say – I don’t offer to babysit……
That is just so wrong Bunty. Please tell me she doesn’t keep spiders…
No, if she had spiders, the toads or frogs would eat them !
Have you checked it for a micro-chip? If you switch your computer on, and get someone to pass the kitten backwards and forwards a couple of times in front of your new Wireless Router, you should find that the chip number flashes up on the screen**, with a name and address.
The chip is usually on the inside of the right rear leg (or ‘offside rear’ as we old motor trade guys would say) so you may need to persuade Marion to spread ’em a bit……not too ladylike I know.
** if it doesn’t show immediately, try it in the Word programme
Affer, you’re very naughty. I tried this seventeen times before I realised you were joking.
You could take her to a supermarket and try scanning her there…and I’m afraid Affer is cruelly mistaken as to the placement of identichips, they are on the back of the neck somewhere. I rather think it will be yet another case of “unidentified item in the bagging area” though!
Would You like a kitten Goldilocks? She’s litter trained. And very, very cute…
My niece named her cat after her deceased mother (my sister). Some ten years later I still can’t bring myself to call the cat by this name.
Welcome Sharon. That’s a bit creepy. It’s a bit like historical families who call the first child ‘Henry’, the child dies in infancy so they call the second child ‘Henry’ instead in the interests of primogeniture. Actually it’s nothing like that at all!
My mother’s older brother Jacky died in WWII. I tried to find the location of his grave using the War Graves Commission website, but couldn’t find it anywhere. In the end, I told my mother I couldn’t find his grave for some reason. She then informed me that although he was known as Jacky, his real name was Robert. He was always called Jacky because that was the name of his older brother who died as a baby.
After that, I found his grave easily enough, but I’m still puzzled by the naming convention – I guess they just liked the name Jacky, and didn’t want to “waste” it.
Any luck finding the owner? If not, Lord B said he would have it as he has some pencils that need sharpening ..
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