This is my first post in a new blog I have decided to write daily called “the first thirty minutes”. As the name suggests, this blog will focus on the thoughts that begin my day, specifically the first thirty minutes. There will be some entries that are a little more serious and others that will be total garbage, the barely awake mind can be an interesting thing, and I hope to show that to you via this blog.
Today my brain instantly went to people that claim their cats are like their children. If they really believe that, why do they give them such silly names but their actual children proper names? It’s likely because if you want your child to succeed and not get bullied it’s best not to call them names like Mittens or Snowball, but what about the cats? Do the owners not care if they’re bullied, or get turned around for a job interview?
Poor Snuffles can’t get a job as a hunter because all of the sensibly-named cats laugh at him, and they refuse his friendship on the grounds that they might get sick (those silly employed cats don’t realise it’s called the sniffles). So instead poor Snuffles lazes about the house feeling useless, waiting for his inevitable end.
So, if you consider your feline to be like your child – give it a name you would be proud to have. Snuffles would’ve suffered less if his name was Stan or Rob, he’d be fully employed and bouncing off of the walls with purpose. Do that one thing and give a cat a real name.