My brother got a cat.
First order of business: a name. We brainstormed to try to come up with something awesome. Something musical would have been nice, like “Meowdnight Sonata” or “Treble Cat.” We considered normal human names such as “Pawl.” I proposed using an everyday word as a name, in the style of the most awesome cat name I’ve ever heard: “Haircut.”
Finally, we narrowed it down to three: Socrates (or Socks, for short), The Cheat, and Jacuzzi (Jack for short; which also has the added bonus of telling people you have a jacuzzi back at your place).
All the “Socks” talk reminded me of a book I’d read as a kid, which was a collection of letters written to President Clinton’s family cat, Socks. I recalled this to my husband and brother, and they looked at me, wondering what relevance this could have to the subject at hand.
“What does that have to do with a name for my cat?” my brother asked me.
“Nothing,” I answered, still trying to recall the contents of one of the pages written to the Presidential feline. “Although when you think about it, people have always loved talking to and looking at pictures of famous cats. It kind of explains the internet.”
I continued to ponder while my brother was still in a state of slight confusion, until my husband said something sweet and romantic like, “Don’t listen to her, she’s crazy.”
In the end, I think we settled on a combination of everything. That way my brother can tell his friend that he named his cat after him, “Coda” (with a K instead of a C) covers the musical portion, and he can send his pet out to steal him fresh jam.
Mmm. Fresh jam.