A few weeks ago I allowed the pro-feline lobby here at the house to talk me into getting a cat.

I'm not a cat person. I'm a dog person, as I've made clear at the blog. But Wendy and the kids like cats, and so it was put to a vote, and then it was vetoed, and then my veto was overturned. A small, gray, year-and-a-half-old cat was adopted from the local humane society and added to our two-dog home.

The cat's name was changed a number of times. First it was Makoto, a name given in honor of an athlete from a Japanese TV show that Wendy and all three kids love. That name didn't stick for a number of reasons. For one thing, Makoto is actually a male name, and this is a female cat. For an other thing, I could never remember the name and often referred to the cat as Kimono, Komodo, Tornado, etc.

Then the cat's name became Sophie, a name that always seemed kind of "Eehh" to everyone here.

For the record, I wanted to name the cat Turnip. I lost that bid in a debate that went something like this:

Me: We should name the cat Turnip.

Everybody else: Why? That's a terrible name for a cat.

Me: It's a perfect name. After all, she is a gray cat.

Everyone Else: But turnips ARE NOT gray!

Me: They are eventually.

I thought the logic was bulletproof, but Wendy and the kids shot it down.

So the cat's name became Sascha, for reasons I'm still not sure of.

After the initial period of adjustment as Sascha and the two dogs got used to each other, she eventually got comfortable in her new home and got in the habit of coming upstairs and depositing herself on my belly as I reclined in front of the TV.

So I got used to the tiny, gray ball of fur sleeping on my belly, purring quietly. I got used to it, and I kinda got to like it.

Now I look forward to it.

Sascha is still a cat, clearly inferior to dogs ... but she'll do.

Labels: Personal, Trivial Matters