This new kitty showed up at our house so I’ve made him mine. Now he needs a name.



Hemi loves the new kitten, who still remains nameless.

By SARA VANDEN BERGE


Ernest Hemingway once wrote that “one cat leads to another.”


I fear he was correct.

At the time, Hemingway, was referring to his home in Cuba, where a gaggle of cats roamed free.


Cats later took up residence at his house in Key West, which is now The Hemingway Home and Museum (such a cool place to tour), and yeah, there’s a bunch of cats running around there too.


More than half are polydactyl, meaning they’ve got a couple extra toes.

When our first cat showed up a little more than a year ago, his extra toes earned him the name Hemingway (Hemi for short).


That’s a fancy name for what was a skinny, scraggly little guy with fleas when we first met.


But since then, he has officially become my baby; my fourth child, and the fleas are long gone.

Before his arrival into our lives, I never imagined loving a cat the way I love my Hemi – but as empty nesters, he was enough.


We travel quite a bit, and frankly, Hemi was the only thing I was willing to take care of.


Until yesterday.

As I was writing the pet of the week story from the comfy of my living room couch, I heard a strange sound coming from the back porch.


I thought it was a bird until I spotted a kitten standing on shaky legs next to Hemi.


I took one look at that scared, flea-invested baby and knew he was going to be mine.


I gave him some food I picked up from the vet last week and gave him a warm bath in Dawn dish soap to rid him of fleas.

I snapped a pic and sent it to The Husband who arrived home from work with a kitten on my lap.


He’s a sucker too, so the kitten gets to stay, but now he needs a name.


Hemingway is a big moniker to live up to so I want to get it right.

I’ve narrowed the list to my three favorites:


1. Charles Dickens (Charlie)


2. Edgar Allan Poe (Eddie)


3. Leo Tolstoy (Leo)


I realize that William Shakespeare should be in the running, but my new little guy just isn’t a Willie.

I am also aware that my biggest nightmare is coming true: I’m officially the cat lady.


My friend Stephanie sent me a text last night that said, “You need an intervention! You’re going to become that crazy cat lady with 10 cats rocking in a recliner losing her mind!”


To which the only response I could give was a wide-eyed emoji.


Meanwhile, drop me a line to let me know what name you like best.