Everybody knows that cats have several lives, but few people know the names used by the beasts in their previous lives.
One of my cats went through several name changes in her lifetime. When I found her, she answered to the name of Peter. We lived with this arrangement for about a year or two… until one day, at the veterinarian’s office, the man in charge told me that Peter was not a “he” but a “she”.
Well, a sex change is no big deal nowadays, so I accepted this rather calmly. I renamed her “Bugaloo” for the way she pranced around. Bugaloo didn’t object to her new name; she would come, as in the past, when I called her. I suspect that she responded more to the smell of food than to her new moniker, but why quibble?
After a while, I came to realize that a three syllables name was not practical. It did not have the punch needed when I called her. So, I renamed her “Boogie”. You must admit that, in an emergency, Boogie can be much more forceful than “Bu-ga-loo”; and it sounded less foolish when I summoned her in public.
The name worked well until I met a woman called Tamara. She started calling the furry beast “Koshka” (a female cat in Russian). Koshka took this new name in stride; she even responded very positively when addressed in Russian. I found this rather vexing since she never seemed to care when I talked to her in French.
A name is one thing, but obedience is another thing. Sometimes when addressed either in French, English, or Russian, Koshka totally ignored me. This was serious stuff, a break in communication you might say. She just stared at me, rapidly swishing her tail back and forth, which in cat language means “get off my back”.
In situations like this, I always take the moral high ground. I acted insulted and refused to even look at her. It was not long though before I felt her tail rubbing against my legs; it was her way of saying “I have been a beast… will you forgive me?”
I always did, because, behind my curmudgeon shield, I really am a softy… especially with cuddly creatures.
Peter, alias Bugaloo, Boogie, and Koshka passed away a few years ago. I still long to feel her body brazenly spreading over my sleeping space when I turn in at night. Thousands of babies can testify that there is nothing like the feel of a cat-warming blanket after a hard working day.
So long beastie… It was extra nice knowing you.
Alain