We thought we were starting with Lady Jane Grey (yes I watch too many historical dramas) and Gentleman Jim. Well, 5 minutes after we got home, we decided our swaggering orange tabby was more of a confirmed country boy and started calling him Jim-Bob.
We still thought Jane was very ladylike as she hung back under the coffee table and curled up in cardboard boxes in the sun.
That night one of the house mice made the mistake of venturing out from behind a cupboard to steal a piece of Katy’s kibble.
A ball of grey shot across the living room and kitchen, and the mouse scampered back to his hiding place. Little Jane was on the hunt however, and she was ready to tear apart our kitchen to get to it.
She didn’t get it, but she was in the mood for a hunt.
Everything was fair game. Bits of string, hands under blankets, feathers. Nothing was safe.
She spotted Katy-the-Wonder-Dog’s thumping tail and crouched for the attack, but then decided she didn’t really want to hunt anymore.
For now.
When the light is right or she just feels like it, however, Lady Jane becomes a fuzzy poltergeist. A one-woman weapon of mass distractedness. She’s a calamity.
Which is how I suggested a better name for her might be Calamity Jane.
I wish I could say it wouldn’t help her fit into her new life at Casa Chaos better.