A CAT BY ANY OTHER NAME IS STILL A CAT

I heard a song on the radio the other day by a band called The Ting Tings. It goes something like: "they call me hell/they call me Stacey/they call me her/they call me Jane/that's not my name/that's not my name/that's not my name/that's not my name". After I managed to pull myself together from the deep and heart-wrenching lyrics, it got me thinking.

My 'owners' call me all sorts of things. Mum calls me Jakey Cakey, The Cake, Mr Cake, My Boy, Little Man and The Jakemeister. Dad tends to call me The Boy or Mr Jake. At least Mr Jake shows a little much-deserved respect. But whether it's Jakey Cakey or The Boy, like the bird from The Ting Tings says, that's not my name. My name's Jake. It's simple. One syllable. Not very difficult to remember or to pronounce, is it?

I've noticed it with my sister too. They call Lilly, 'Lilly Loo-Loo' most of the time. And also Miss Loo, and Lilly Loo-La. I mean, what's that all about? Why do they insist on calling us so many nicknames? Is it just us or do other cats have to put up with this sort of thing?

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