By the admirable and entertaining Bob Eckstein (of snowman and bookstore fame, among other things), now appeared. My copy arrived today. Notable because my name is in it, in a long list of people who wrote Bob about naming cats. (I offered my Sanskrit cat Marjarah, which Bob seems, unsurprisingly, not to have found a place for; Scottish cats, Jewish cats, but no Sanskrit cats, go figure.) I don’t expect that my own name will ever again appear together with New Yorker cartoonist Liana Finck’s, so I’m treasuring the moment.
The book is a hoot, and it’s got a lot of Bob’s cat cartoons, so I’ll probably be posting some of those eventually — but today, I’m just giving you the announcement, plus an appreciation of the book. (In a section on cat names for foodies, in a subsection of that on meat names, I found two superb names — Chorizo and Kebab — that almost made me want to get a cat. NO, NO, DO NOT give me a cat. I am, really, truly, just very barely taking care of myself and could not possibly tend to another living thing. Look, I’m seriously considering getting rid of my beloved cymbidium orchids, as I become more and more physically disabled. But I love the idea of having a sausage or grilled-meat cat. Or maybe one with a cheesy name, like Mascatpone.)
The lists deserve to be read out loud, as performance art:
Cheeto, Chocolate, Cinnamon, Cocoa, Fudge, Jellybean, Kit Kat, Lollipop, …
