There was a time in my life when the animals outnumbered the people in my home. By a lot! My mother even commented that my house was an honest to goodness menagerie.
We had two Pekingese. We had a cat named Spud. We had goldfish. A bird. We even had a frog.
Over the years, we whittled our way down to just one Alpha dog named Trixie. Miss Trixie thinks (no, she KNOWS) that she is the queen of our house. She does not appreciate having any competition for our attention. Oh no, not one bit.
But this weekend we let favorite daughter have her way. We went to the animal adoption day at a local pet supply store and came home with a gorgeous six-month-old Calico cat.
She had been well cared for by Heartsong Animal Rescue. They called her Mosaic, but said we were welcome to re-name her.
On our way home (with a trunk full of cat gear), the girl child considered naming her Cali. That seemed to stick, at least for the ride home.
At home, hubby declared her “Ed.” His offer of naming the cat was quickly declined although he claims he will continue to call her Ed regardless of what the rest of us call her.
Then favorite son gave his two cents. We’d just turned off an episode of “Rock of Love 2,” a reality dating show starring non other than Brett Michaels from Poison. No, this is not family television. Yes, I’m ashamed to admit that it was being viewed in our den.
“Let’s call her Christie Joe,” says the boy child, after one of the program’s most beautiful yet controversial “Brett Babes.”
Despite the origin of the name, Christie Joe seemed to fit. We nicknamed her C.J.
Miss Trixie is not impressed.