Family affair.

I'm not lazy. I'm conserving energy.

As I've mentioned before, I have a cat named Lizzie. I've had her almost five years, and she's nearly six years old. She was found by her previous owners as a tiny little kitten alone in a ditch. (Insert: Awwww!) They didn't know if she'd been abandoned, left for dead, or simply separated from her mom, but they scooped her up and although they already had two cats, they took her home and named her Elizabeth.

I've always found it odd when people can remember all the pets they've had in their life. By that, I mean, that they remember all 5 or 6 pets they've had. My parents (my dad, in particular) have a complete inability to live without a pet. I remember briefly, a few years ago, when they "only" had one cat and one dog. (Presently they're back up to two cats and two dogs.) When I was a child, my Sunday school teacher asked each of us how many pets we owned. I counted off 16. Okay, that was an exception, not the rule, but we had a few cats, one of which had just given birth to a litter of kittens, a few dogs, one of which had just given birth to a litter of puppies, and a couple of "yard birds" leftover from when my parents had a chicken coop, and two of the hens just hung out in the yard. (Yes, we found homes for the kittens and puppies.) 

The day after Christmas this year I was looking through old pictures. My mom's photo box has a section just for pets. There were some photos of animals that we couldn't confidently identify. And there were lots of pets missing. There are pictures of dogs and cats my folks had before I was born (a mere 21 years ago).

The point is, that inability to be pet-free has been passed on to me. A year after her previous owners found Elizabeth, I was looking for a cat. I'd recently lost 2 cats (brother and sister named Tuna and Salmon, aka Sammy--yes, I'm very funny) in a breakup and therefore, obviously, needed another pet. My mom told me a coworker of hers, a woman who I'd grown up knowing at church, had 3 cats and was looking to find a home for one of them. I agreed to take one, sight unseen.

My mom and I drove to her house and walked in, greeting her and her husband. I saw some cats milling around their home and spotted one that I thought was one of the prettiest cats I'd seen. She was snow white with big charcoal gray spots. And her nose had gray marks on it in the shape of a heart. That was Elizabeth. 

Personally, I prefer to give animals names that are silly or funny (as you may have guessed by Sammy and Tuna). Elizabeth is a rather distinguished name for a cat. Oh, and in case you didn't put two and two together, Elizabeth also happens to be the name of my one and only sister. I guess the woman's husband also found Elizabeth to be a little pretentious, so he called her Lizzie, and I decided I would too, although there's much fun to be had when your cat and sister have the same name.

"Elizabeth, quit licking yourself!"
"Elizabeth, get out of the litter box!"
"Oh no, Elizabeth yacked in the living room again!"

Since I've had Lizzie, my sister has threatened that she would get a dog and name it after me. "Well," I've always retorted, "it's not like I named her Elizabeth. She came with that name! And I call her Lizzie."

No matter, my sister would reply. She still kept threatening to do it.

About a year ago, her friend found a Beagle that had been rescued from an abusive situation and needed a good home. My sister, also afflicted with the same condition as I and my parents, was looking for a dog. Bingo bango, my sister adopted the dog. 

And you know it, she named her Becky Beagle.

I'm as energetic as my cousin Lizzie.

I have a cat named after my sister, and she has a dog named after me. It's a family affair, after all.

Some people seem to think that I and my sister should be highly insulted (though I guess naming a dog after someone is worse). I'm not sure why. We Suttons love our animals and take good care of them. They are our little butt-sniffing, belly-licking, table-scrap begging, good-snuggling members of our families. Besides, it's funny. The same people who think I should be insulted would probably also be the people who would get mad if you name your kid the name they have been secretly hoping to name their future but as of yet unconceived child--and never told you they "claimed" that name. 

I admit that it does chafe a little when my niece accidentally calls me Aunt Becky instead of Aunt Becca. She doesn't get me mixed up with the dog too often, at least. I guess I'll train my future but as of yet unconceived children (whose names you don't know but you better not steal) to call my sister Aunt Lizzie. 

My biggest quandary is this: Who should I name my next pet after?