Pluma meows a naming story
Hi furiends, so I said I would meow you the facts of my naming.
It all began on a cold January day three years ago. Mom had just lost her cat ‘Yucky’ and was very sad to have no cat. Mommys friend called and said “I just saw picture of beautiful kitten who needs a home, here is phone number.”
So after phone calls and meetings arrange Mom and Dad drive to see me. Course i was so cute Mom needed me right away. Turns out I was found as tiny baby along the Rio Grande River with no momma cat and lots of meowy crying cause I was hungry, cold and scared. (Don’t tell everyone but I am still scared to be home alone, or anywhere alone. Even at work I stay in same room as Mom. Always)
So Mom and Dad take me to their home, with food and warm and loves! I am not scared as long as I can see them, but if pawrents go in other room I start crying again. So my Mom, she just carry me with her every room she go to. I am not scared again.
My furs is all white and because I was so scared when lost and homeless I lost many furs. My skin is pink, pink, pink. So Mom calls me Pinky Boy. It’s a good thing I am deaf because if I hada heard that name I mighta run away! Maybe scared isn’t as awful as that name. Mom noticed I wouldn’t come to her if she called me that horrid name so she figures I don’t like it thinks about changing it. (humans is so funny, she didn’t even know I was deaf then!)
Next she calls me “squeak” Now I ask you, what kinda name is that for a beautiful and handsome all white soon to grow up into a manly man cat? Humans think strangely. She calls me squeak because I couldn’t meow. Don’t laugh, If youse was deaf and had never heard talkin’ how good would you talk? So what if I squeaked, at least I was trying to communicate.
Naturally I didn’t answer to that name either. It was some time after the adoption of that disrespectful name that my pawrents figured out (dah) that I couldn’t hear them. And it was only after one or two other equally stupid names that my Dad listened in his mind and heard my real name. PlumaBlanca, WhiteFeather, on account of my magnificent tail, a truly rare fantastically plumed all white long-haired feathery tail. Now I still couldn’t hear them flapping their lips at me but I had mastered lip-reading by then and happy to hear my real true name I ran to Mom when ever she flapped the name at me. So that became my name, ( well, it was always my real name, it just took the humans a long time to figure it out.)
So thats the story of how I have my Forever Home and my Forever Name. Another time I will tells you the story of how I became a working cat, learned sign language, purrfected my meows and finnaly trained my human peoples to do things the way I like them.
Have a purry nice day, your friend Pluma
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