In contrast to Spain who is lovely and quite sweet, I present my cat (who is not).
He is 19. He is the most cantankerous cat in Ballard–which is going a long way, considering that this is an industrial district on a canal. (There are rats the size of Toyotas here.)
His name is Kitts. Not because we couldn’t come up with anything better, but because we thought he looked piratical and we wanted to name him something “pirate-y”. Of course Morgan wouldn’t do (its just soooooo common doncha know?) So I thought I would name him after a location associated with pirates. But do I call him “Jamaica”or “Port Royal” or something like that? No. I named him after the island of St. Kitts. Which, it turns out, is not actually known for its association with pirates.
But, you know, Dry Tortuga was right out.
Kitts believes he is the king of all he surveys and will brook no playing silly buggers.
So he claims. He also claims to hate, loathe, and abominate the ferrets (whom we know he secretly calls “the stinky brats” behind our backs.)
So much for that. Kitts must hide in shame, now….