don't eat me!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
I have always had slightly odd names for my pets. I once had a kitten named Crash Test Kitty (Crash for short). It was really a fairly obvious choice for this little bundle of gray and white who couldn't ever quite make his turns on time.
Then there was Pyra the pyromaniac, who used to hook her claws into the screen in front of the fireplace and just hang there, staring.
I distinctly remember as a little girl when I got my first (?) kitten, telling my mom to give her a ball of yarn and if the kitten got tangled in it, I was going to call her Tangles. Real original, I know. My mom was not about to waste a ball of yarn, so I think that kitten ended up being called Cuddles. Another original choice. It just seemed cheating to me to name the kitten Tangles with no actual basis for doing so. "Cuddles" actually turned out to be a savage monster. Or maybe that was Lollipop. I'm surprised my little brother likes cats now, and wasn't scarred by the experiences with those two.
So, the lobster up there. Named "Don't Eat Me!" She's got a story, too. And yes, I realize she's not technically a pet. humor me.
I went to Maine on my vacation, and a dear friend asked me to bring back a lobster for her. To eat. She said I wasn't allowed to name it, unless I named it "Dinner." She didn't want me getting too attached.
Now, I really did seriously consider the feasibility of transporting a lobster in my beetle from Maine to New York. I pictured myself with a styrofoam cooler on the floor of the passenger seat with A LOBSTER in it, happily relaxing in as much water as I could fit. I imagined the conversations I would have with it (because I couldn't have something alive in the car with me and not talk to it!), and then I imagined having to change the water. The idea lost some of its allure here. Then I realized that I wasn't coming straight home, and keeping a lobster alive and tasty for three days was more than I wanted to attempt!
So I kept my eyes peeled for (where did that phrase come from, anyway?? who wants their eyes PEELED????) a suitable alternative. And I found her, hanging out in a toy store on Exchange Street in Portland. The sparkles on her back told me she belonged with my sparkly friend. And I had to name her "Don't Eat Me!" (said with a bit of urgency in the voice and a look of imploring on the face) just to remove all doubt.
She's been nicknamed Donut.