Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The first was named for her sense of fearless adventure.
The second was predestined by Oliver to be named something so complicated. I'll explain. We were at a friend's house where there was a cat. Oliver practically devoured the poor tabby - out of love and one year old energy. When we got home Andrew asked Oliver if he wanted a cat. How interesting is the dialogue between a daddy and his boy...
Oliver: Yeah. (Which is his response to nearly everything.)
Andrew: What are you going to name the kitty?
Oliver, obviously confused by the question: Meow meow bye-bye.
Who lets toddlers name pets anyway? Judging from the noise he makes for pigs, I don't think we'll be getting piglets anytime soon. We'd go hoarse trying to grunt out their names.
By the way, our little farm is starting to feel like George Orwell's fictitious world of 'Animal Farm' already, even without pigs. The story, dripping with satire, tells of a barnyard animal uprising. It's actually an allegory about totalitarianism, but at our house, I fear it's coming true. In my nightmare the cute little kittens pull Hector into this revolution. I didn't think we were lunatic pet owners who succumb to the droopy, pleading eyes of furry creatures. After all --
So God created people in his own image...and told them,"Be masters over the fish and birds and all the animals." Genesis 1:27, 28
Lord help us.