The kitten finally has a name. We went through about 3000 a day trying to find the name that just instantly struck us both as right. I tried names of Gods and fantasy characters but they were too much for him. The husband tried candy bars and fictional cats but nothing stuck. We spent our days yelling names to each other just to have the other one reject our offerings. While turning on Fox News one night the husband said, “We could call him Hannity.” This was said to annoy me because he knows I hate the Hannity and Colmes show more than any other show in the universe. I gave him the glare that that comment richly deserved. Glad that he annoyed me, he added, “O’Reilly?” I turned to glare again but then it happened. We looked at each other and at the kitten sleeping on the couch and the heavens opened and said, “It is so!” I fought for a few days. I hate The O’Reilly Factor just slightly less than Hannity and Colmes. But the universe has spoken. I’ve changed the spelling to protect the innocent kitten but his name is…. Riley. It fits. It is him. Who am I to argue? But I’m going to deny forever the idea that the husband named the cat after Bill O’Reilly.


Riley seen here eating Powder’s food while she is outside. Last night they actually were able to sit on the same piece of furniture while studiously ignoring each other. We have detente.