We’ve been having some trouble with our cat lately.

I’ll introduce you to her. This is typical of what we tell people that come to visit us.

“This is Daisy. Careful. She might brush up against you looking for attention. She’s curious, but if you pet her for more than 5 seconds she might hiss and then get weird. She doesn’t normally bite, but she wants you to think that she’s a ferocious, independent cat. She is not very active. We’ve tried all sorts of things to keep her moving, but she gets bored very easily. She’s fairly old now, about 15 years, and it is getting more difficult… well, she is just getting more difficult…”

Daisy has collected a few nicknames over the years. Shannon said I shouldn’t list them here. “You’ll hurt her feelings!”

But, we have come to the conclusion that she is not an English cat anyway. She has made it quite clear she doesn’t care for the English language (or maybe she just doesn’t care to). We think she is either Romanian or maybe Spanish. So far, we’ve tried to learn a little Spanish (“la naranja es anaranjado!”). No real effect yet, but it might be that she’s a cat and so doesn’t  care no matter how you say it.

So, here’s part of the ongoing list of nicknames given to her:

Daisy the Hutt

Rumplefatskin

Our-Little-Screamapillar

(kind of a pick-up from The Simpsons – without constant reassurance she might die)

Princess ChubbyBuns

Butterbag

and

Fatty-Fat Fat-Fat

(a clear and definite rip from The Simpsons)

“Each one of us here today will at one time in our lives look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question: We are willing help, Lord, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them – we can love completely without complete understanding.” – A River Runs Through It