So apparently, it is difficult determine the gender of young kittens. They all look the same until suddenly...they start to develop. Change. Blossom. And then you're left feeling foolish and holding a boy cat named CC.
It was about a month ago that the area under CC's tail began to appear suspiciously...manly. Andrew and I researched online, comparing poor CC's private parts to awkward photographs on websites until we finally, conclusively, and shamefacedly proclaimed CC to be a boy.
One website said that breeders even get it wrong sometimes. So don't judge us.
In the meantime, our family is working to make a difficult paradigm shift. Despite this revelation, our minds seem determined to keep CC as the familiar pretty kitty we have always know her to be. Half the time, I address the cat using feminine pronouns. The other half, I consciously try to land on the masculine ones but usually only get as far as...it.
Where's the cat?
It's napping under the boat. It is tired from hunting grasshoppers all day and its fur is making it hot.
*sigh*
We have kicked around the idea of renaming it...I mean him...with something less embarrassing. Caesar seems to be the front runner. It sounds similar and isn't so sissy. The only problem now, is that CC knows the name CC. He responds to it. His ears perk up and he comes running when I call him. Not to mention Moose knows that CC is his little furry friend. Who the heck is Caesar?
So now, everyone is confused.
Severely Mistaken and Outnumbered,
Rachel



