So, if you know me, you know I have little to no impulse control when it comes to furry critters. Within 24 hours of Dizzy’s death, I was ready to find another kitty to add to our family. Luckily, S was on board, so we headed out to our favorite shelter, Second Chance Pet Adoption, to get our snuggle on. Within seconds, we found a floof who was perfect. We looked at a few others for awhile (I thoroughly enjoyed sitting in a room and having kittens climb all over me, and if I could have just moved into the room with them, I totally would have), but kept coming back to this one little tuxedoed-up guy.
So we put in our application to adopt him and went home to fight over what to name him. So far, I’ve named all of my cats after jazz musicians (Ella Fitzgerald, Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong, Frank Sinatra, Dizzy Gillespie, Keely Smith, and Madeleine Peyroux) , so I was pushing hard to continue the tradition. S kept suggesting random, old-fashioned names that had nothing to do with anything: Barnabus, Thaddeus, Elridge, etc. But I held out for a jazz name, and the more he pushed for some rando-name, the sillier I got with my suggestions. Here is a list of the names I suggested that S shot down:
1. Thelonius Meownk
2. Charlie Purrker
3. Jelly Roll Meowton
4. Artie Paw
5. Wynton Meowsalis
6. Sonny Pawlins
7. Bing Clawsby
In the end, though, we settled on a name that S suggested that he didn’t know actually had a really great association for me: Hinton. For me, I associate that name with 2 things: 1) Milt Hinton, the jazz bassist and photographer who I met in high school and whose calendars I used to buy every year, and 2) my favorite cocktail from a restaurant in Charlottesville (bourbon – of course – spicy ginger ale, and muddled mint). So basically, we named our new kitten after booze and jazz. Seems appropriate for our house.
Thus far, Keely is maaaaaaaaaad and Maddie is slightly miffed. Keely was not on speaking terms with any of us for awhile, but has already decided that it’s okay to speak to US as long as HE isn’t anywhere around. Progress. And Hinton is settling in nicely. I had forgotten how hard kittens play and then how hard they conk out, all floopy and floppy:
I had also forgotten how much they fart. If he wasn’t so damn cute, I’d be tossing him from my lap every half hour.
I’ll get back to posting tattoos soon, but for now caaaaaaaaaaaats, because really: