Up until just before Christmas, we were living in a virtually pet-free zone (fish don't count). I had a dog when I was married, but since that split, I have had no pets. Blake found a friendly little kitty on the back deck on a minus 1 million degree night (I swear it was, honest!). He came into the kitchen to warm his frost-bitten feet and ears. We couldn't just open the door and let him go again. It was just too cold and we had no idea how far he had traveled. I must admit that we didn't look too hard for the owner because once the boys saw him, they wanted to keep him. Sidney happened to be the only child home when we found him, so he picked the name. He said, "Can we name him Smoochie?", and since there were no other suggestions, Smoochie, or Smooch just stuck. Blake wanted to keep him immediately and nursed him back to health with polysporin and gauzeSo, you know how it is with names. Sometimes we can shorten or alter just about anything. Blake sometimes calls the kitty Mooch, or Moo-Moo. Now his boy Tyler has caught onto that and won't let it go. He tends to do whatever his daddy does/says. Aww...how very endearing...until it starts filtering through to my 4 year old, who will just do/say everything to DEATH! FOR THE RECORD...THE CAT'S NAME IS NOT MOO-MOO! If I wanted a pet named Moo-Moo, I would have a cow. I know this is a little thing, but it drives me ape-shit...for real! So, with all of that said, I have made a decision. I am going to come up with ridiculous names for everyone in the house, and start calling them those names instead. Yeah, yeah, I am being a bitch...so? Got something to say about it?
The black part of his ear actually fell off on Christmas day. All healed now.
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