Save This Family. Name This Cat.

Presenting our Replacement Kitty:


She's a miniature of the late, great Tova. Same breed (Birman), same markings (blue eyes, gray points & professorial patches on her hind legs) same delightful disposition (lovey-dovey). If anything, she's even more affectionate than Tova was, lolling about on our laps and napping on Penny's shoulders during the day. We all fell in love immediately.


BUT. It's been two weeks, and we have yet to arrive at a name. Leave it to two writers and a verbally agile child to bollox up the naming process to the point where we all hate each other. We're sick to death of suggesting names and having the other two family members snarl, "No, I hate that, I hate you, and you're making me hate the cat. I hate all cats now. All animals. I hate Nature, the Universe, the fabled singularity. I hate God. But mostly, I hate you." You could probably set that to The Beatles' "I Want You," from the newly remastered Abbey Road," which I'd much rather be blogging about, to tell you the truth.

Penny came up with the best name: Kish. It means pillow in Yiddish, offering a cute diminutive, Kishela. Come here, little pillow. Wait, you're already behind my neck, like a good little Kish?


No wonder it's the perfect name. Jonah and I have been calling her Kish, Kishy, and Kishycat for days, but Penny has decided she hates it. She's around the cat more than any of us. She tried the name, and it just didn't work. Doesn't roll off the tongue or something. Here, let me strangle you so I can see that tongue, try to figure out the problem...

Update: To punish me for posting this, the darling spousette looked up Kish in the Urban Dictionary. It means, "A very swollen vagina." Seriously. I'm not Will Ferrelling you on this. A couple of other meanings, too--a latent homosexual, a warning that someone's coming, e.g., "Kish! Stash the weed! It's my mom!"

What other names are contending? The current top 10::

Ava
Edie
Cali (from Jonah's day 1 remark, "She smells like calamari.")
Pie
Simone
Mimi
Gia
Jess
Tess
Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom

Of those, Pen likes Ava, I like Edie or Pie or Cali, and Jonah hates everything but Kish. I actually know a family who let their young son name a cat, and ended up with the last entry above. Everybody called the cat Indy, except for little Nicholas, who insisted on, "Come here, Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom! Get down from there, Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom! Mom, Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom just coughed up something black!"

We could do worse. Go on long enough with naming, and some wretched things start to sound reasonable. Penny, at wits' end, keeps saying things like, "How about Pebbles?" or "I know--Talullah!" and I keep giving her looks like, "No, Wilma" and "I hate you AND Demi Moore."

Our marriage is in tatters. Our son is ready to be adopted by other, better parents. Please. Save us. Name this cat.



Update: As of New Year's Day, the cat's name is Tavi. Best little kitty we ever had. And that's going some.

Top (Spulge) Nine Namesfor Malia & Sasha Obama's New Puppy

President-elect Obama (I keep saying it, can’t quite believe it yet) gave a beautiful speech on election night, outlining challenges we'll have to meet and giving us a big Yes We Can coda. The only firm promise I recall from the speech, though, was to his daughters, whom he addressed directly, saying he loved them and that they had “earned the puppy that will be coming with us to the White House.”

Update: Malia apparently has a dog allergy. So the Obamas are looking for a non-shedder, like a labradoodle.

Fascinating, the way presidential pooches become public relations tools. It’s like we all have psychic ownership, a vested interest in the pet’s development and well-being. And the dog is unavoidably symbolic.When Bush’s terrier, Barney, bit that Reuters reporter this week, it not only resonated with Bush's relationship to the press but suggested an irritable, undisciplined administration, or perhaps simply a beleaguered one. Vicious? Rabid? The last eight years will have to be put down.

Even if we can’t clearly say what it’s a symbol of, the presence and personality of a pet offer an alternative image of a leader.
Perhaps the most famous: FDR and Fala. Then there was Nixon’s mawkish Checkers speech, which apparently worked with a sentimental sector of the American public. Oh, and Gerald Ford had a big dog that lounged around the Oval Office. Can't remember the name. I think he called it some non-dog thing like Patriot or something. And Clinton had Buddy. Didn't Buddy write a book during the first term? And didn't he hate the Clintons' cat?
I wonder what the Obamas will name their pet? You can submit ideas on Obama’s new transition site, along with your vision for America. (Nice site, really. Check it out.) Or just post 'em in a comment here. A few starter doggy names…

9. Fala
Pros: Rooseveltian, cementing the parallels between Obama's situation and FDR's. Traditional yet exotic-sounding. Gender-neutral. Can be extended into a Christmas carol refrain.
Cons: Derivative. And slightly elitist-sounding, like you’ve just taken a cigarette holder out of your mouth to say it.

8. Not-Barney
Pros: It’s anti-Bush. Suggests that reporters might not get their hands bitten.
Cons: Kind of stupid. Faintly echoes “Smith-Barney,” which could be a downer, reminding us of the financial crisis.

7. Madelyn
Pros: Pays homage to Obama’s maternal grandmother. Easily shortened to “Maddy.”
Cons: Only works for a female puppy. And the name might not make a sharp enough sound to effectively command obedience. Might turn into Mad Dog.

6. Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strong
Pros: Literary, from a charming, old Roald Dahl story, “How Tom Beat Captain Najork and His Hired Sportsmen.” Whimsical. Easily shortened to “Fidget” or “Wonky.”
Cons: A little fussy. Again, limited to the bitches. And right-wingers would pounce on “Fidget” or “Wonky.”

5. Captain Najork
Pros: Literary (see previous entry). Military. And an abbreviation from either side (“Cap’n!” or “Jork!”) gives a nice, sharp sound to elicit a dog’s response.
Cons: Strictly male. Also, what is wrong with me?

4. Marty
Pros: Cute. Can be male or female, although it does lean to the former. For a male dog, it's a great name, suggesting MLK without getting aggressively masculine or radical about it. You don’t want Malcolm or Eldridge or even Bill. Marty might also suggest Martin Sheen, the best president we never had.
Cons: No good for a big dog. You’re pretty much stuck with a terrier or a teacup or a weiner here.

3. King
Pros: Classic. A bigger, nobler, more obvious reference to MLK, but also a real, live, good ol’ dog name.
Cons: Only good for a big male dog. And the more you think about it, the less good it seems. This is not the time for a King. If you want to reclaim democracy, name your dog “Thomas Jefferson” or "Lincoln" or “Studs Terkel” or “Joe the Poodle.” Scratch that last one.

2. Hope
Pros: It’s got audacity.
Cons: If the dog dies in office, what a PR nightmare.

And the number 1 name for the Obama puppy is…yours. Post ideas here, and if you come up with a really good one, tell it to the man.