Charlie and Norman
I’ve never been great with names. My kittens are called Charlie and Norman because, as I explained to my parents, ‘I’m probably too old and too single now to give you any grand children so instead I’ll name the kittens after your Dads.’ They didn’t look quite as thrilled as they could have I’ll admit, and I think the neighbours may be a little concerned that I have a bit of a coke habit when I am frequently heard calling ‘Where’s my Charlie?’ but hey ho.
Lucifer. Not looking particularly intent on world domination.
It’s better than the worry they may have had when they heard me shouting for the last cat, Lucifer (so called because he was an evil bastard intent on world domination). At that point, devil worship may have been the greatest fear of those in the vicinity. God know what neighbours thought when in my teenage years I named one ‘Ambrosia’. (Yes, I had an obsession with rice pudding)…
I think this issue with coming up with a sensible name may go back a long way. When I was 5, my parents told me I was getting twin sisters and in a fit of loveliness / stupidity said I could name them. A decision I am pretty sure they must have regretted immediately. Topsy and Tim were my first choices (‘Topsy and Tim are learning to swim’ was my all time favourite book) and I could not understand why anyone had an issue with calling one of my new sisters Tim if I didn’t. That was vetoed though, so instead I suggested Buttercup and Daisy (I had two stuffed cows that were in favour at the time). Again my parents overruled me and I was made to come up with some rather more usual names. Within year or two the usual names had been replaced with Spanner and Wormy, so frankly they should have just stuck with Topsy and Tim and been done with it. (I should probably point out that my sisters, now 28 are no longer referred to as Spanner and Wormy although they have gone through a variety of nicknames since then.)
They're twins...people need help (bet it would have been easier if they were Topsy and Tim...)
Even further back, I started calling everyone by their first name, then Pog. The joke is on me on that one though as the favour was returned, my first name was dropped and 32 years later I am still Pog to many. The only time I find that embarrassing though is when I am shouted at in crowded places…
It’s just as well I have never been solely responsible for naming one of the next generation. I dread to think what I would have come up with:o)
the pog blog 
When I lived at home my cat was called Puck so you can imagine what it was called when we could not get her in!!!
There were these two beautiful little kitten cards sitting on a shelf in a shop in Otford and I just had to have them so they slipped into my bag together with 6 pumpkin candles!!!!I did of course pay for them and one was posted that afternoon after having a cream tea in The Hospices for Hope shop (with jam on the envelope) Yummmy.
xxx
That is brilliant! Poor Puck!
I am very jealous of the cream tea and thank you so much for buying the cards but please get them from me (it will be much cheaper!) Charlie and Norman will be very proud though:o)
xxx
Come on. While I have successfully named a child a sensible name I have 4 pet snakes called Trevor, Marvin, Millie and Sydney. Hissing Sid is quite obvious, I think, but Trevor, Marvin and Millie the snakes! I also used to have pet hamsters as a child and they were just given the same name over and over with the addition of a number at the end of their name. Hammy1 Hammy2 Hammy3……..