Five months old. A touch young, but only a touch, and I’m an advocate of grabbing them quick before they (a) multiply into more catlets and (b) get hit by hormones and morph into psycho-feral cat-o-saurs.
(Like dinosaurs, but feral and with the ability to climb trees.)
Because you can’t neuter girl parts, you see.
I shit you not, you can’t make this up. (I have been assured by Facebook that I am not the only person this has happened to...)
So yeah. Asmodean, our little boy, is in fact more of a Halima (Wheel of Time joke, heh.). He’s a she. And now the name Asmodean just doesn’t fit.
Which is kind of good, because our neighbours were a touch perplexed as to why we had a cat named Asmodean and this bumper sticker on the van:
And let’s face it, most of them are aware Shakespeare dropped dead on Friday the thirteenth. (Um... and that I’m a little nuttier than your average
First thought: must be another baddie-WoT name. MUST.
Halima? Hallie for short? Boys vetoed it.
Mesaana? No. Just... no.
Alviarin? Alvie? Meh.
Lanfear (heh — it can be argued she cut off Asmodean’s whatsits... thanks for that, Richard). ::sigh:: No.
Selene? Nah, too prissy by far— despite this cat being a bonafide snuggler, it’s less manipulative and more simple cuddling. Too nice.
Moghedien?... Moggie? The boys cheered, because Moghedien is just fun to say, darn it!
Imagining veterinarians, vet techs, receptionists, and just about anybody not WoT-affiliated encountering the name on paper and attempting to wrap their tongue about it (ha HA!) kept my interest...
Then, (shoutout to my favourite podcasters), I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of calling an aging black cat by the nickname “Ol Mog.” SOLD!
So that’s the story of how Asmo became Moggie, and we’re still unsure if the new name will stick. She’s currently sitting in the middle of the living room floor with her back to us, displaying prime kitty disdain for the day’s indignity (because I’m writing this on Thursday evening, natch). But I have hope.
Also? I’m incredibly stubborn. And cats aren’t exactly known for coming when called, so I WIN!
(The thing is, I could swear I’ve only seen Toms with noses that long... hm.)
Yeah, I got nothin’... uh... except a gratuitous kitten cuteness shot.
Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.