Identity Shift

The shiny black cat pictured with me on this blog, and who I have known for most of my life, got a new name when the Typist sprung us from jail in Seattle more than two human years ago. We both did.
At that time I had been called 'Harley'. I had been identified as having feline ADD/AHD but no one mentioned that to the Typist. Once she changed my name to PD ( sounds like Peetee) I was able to start focusing and stop running all over her apartment including the tables, up the walls with bamboo coverings (good gripping material), across all objects as if they weren't there, and bouncing off the windows which finally stopped my running.
The importance of a correct sounding name for anyone whether a cat, a human, a bird, or even a dog is vital for harmony in nature. Look at the operating instructions God gave to Adam at the dawn of time... name everything.
Anyway, she really understood the need for this identity stipulation. Of course, I was no trouble for her. She just said a few different sounds to me and when she got to my own sound, Peee-Deee, my ears perked up and, to tell the truth, I simply melted. She can get me to do anything by just saying my name to me.

The naming work did not go so well with my big black companion who was adopted at the same time. We could only be released from our double-wide cell in the Humane Society Prison System if we were taken together. As much as the wild running around, scratching wooden surfaces, and breaking things that I did when moving into our really nice, fully carpeted condo, the boy she called Buddy Budd never responded to that name. He was depressed for a long time and would not talk to her. He talked to me, as usual. We have a system of chirps that we developed in prison. After a couple of days in the new home I had taught the translation to the Typist ( I did not know she would come to be called 'Typist' them) and she could chirp with us. This still did not get Buddy to melt at the sound of his name. She just called him that because he refused to respond to any sound. He was angry for a long time about being abandoned into prison with out committing a crime. Angry to know that he was no longer wanted.
But, not long ago she caught him unaware and found his new name. Ready? Horatio, with a long holding of the "o."

Of course, he 's no longer mad about what happened to him, although being a smart cat, he has memories. Yet once he and I accepted the woman who would become Typist into our family we all have settled down a lot. Finding Horatio's true sounding name came by accident. The typist had spent several days watching all of the Horatio Hornblower DVD films. Somehow she said the name out loud and the cat, formerly known as Buddy, just melted next her. And now she only needs to croon "Horatio" to him and he lies down waiting for a total body massage. That's another form of perking up the ears for a cat.

Moral of the story: get your proper and correctly sounding name. True sounds bring about happiness, harmony and cooperation between people and species. As an example: the name of that tiger in the prison at the San Francisco Zoo was Tatania (Too many T's for my nervous system, but that's me). After her first break out or attack on her feeding human (Talk about biting the hand and arm that feeds you!) in 2005 someone should have checked on her response to that name as well as her feelings about being dragged from her other prison home to become a breeder in San Francisco-- talk about slavery!). She was a very angry and unhappy cat, obviously, and with justified cause. Perhaps something as elemental as a properly sounding name, confirming her true identity could have spared her life and the lives of those she hurt.

Just a thought...