It's a Girl!

She's a retired breeder, a three-year- old smoke Maine Coon with a pedigree longer than my arm. She's a shy little thing and she isn't doing well in the big room where Sandy, the breeders, keeps her girls. The name she has now is Smokin', which doesn't suit her at all. For one thing, pet names should not come with punctuation marks other than the occasional hyphen. If you must be Mary-Jean instead of Mary Jean, then I suppose you must. Whatever. [1]

In any case, she'll be getting a new name, a small name. Right now I like Emma; Mom suggests Sara. I thought of Clara, after my grandmother, but Grandma was a very strong woman. The little gray girl is not at all assertive. I hope she blooms in an atmosphere that contains fewer cats, but the most important thing is that I'm getting her out of that room.

After we met her, Mom's comment was that she is no Lola. That much is true: she's almost the anti-Lola, and I can hardly imagine that they're the same breed. Lola was bigger boned. She had huge paws and a big, winning personality; and she was my girl. I loved her more than I have ever loved anything. In my memory, Lola is still jumping through the flowers in Wendi's garden with the sun shining on her fur and a springtime breeze ruffling her whiskers.

I am not looking to replace Lola, because I know that's not possible, but there's a hole in my family. It happens to be exactly Maine Coon shaped, and I think the little one will fit.

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I had a roommate in college who had this exact hang-up. It drove us all mad.

before - after