My yellow Lab is named Amazing Grace and she is amazingly gracious. She just wants her place on the couch back. But the Lump of a cat you see in this picture has no intention of moving. When he was a kitten, we named this cat “T.S. Eliot” after the poet whose book “Of Practical Cats” became the famous Broadway play CATS. A fine sophisticated name for a cat, I thought. We never called him by his full name. At first, we tried Eliot, but that didn’t stick. For a little kitten he had a very long fluffy tale. He would jump out of the litter box with little bits of poop clinging to his furry rump and tail. So my daughter, Katharine, started calling him Poopy. I never liked that. But the little guy responded to it and so Poopy he was for awhile. As he grew the rest of him caught up with his tail, and he became a big ball of fur on four feet. The fur started tangling and matting into knots that felt like lumps when we would pet him. And so he became Lumpy, or Lumpy-loo, or just plain the Lump. It looks like that name has stuck for good or bad. And he is bad. Very bad indeed. He is a noisy, nutty, nagging, nightmare of a cat!
From “The Naming of Cats” by the original T.S. Eliot:
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have three different names.
And so it is with our cat. How about yours?