Daisy's Christening

On Dec 31, 2006, there was a formal dance party at the Shelter by Peter Gretsky to celebrate the coming of the new year to our world. We would be voting for the best-dressed male and female dancers, and although I wasn't going to try competing with all the beautiful ladies, I still spent a long time dressing up so that I wouldn't look out of place.

When I finally stepped out of the elevator at the main floor of the Shelter, it was nearly time to begin voting, and the dance floor was almost full. As I stood apart from the crowd, bewildered by all the activity, a well-dressed gentleman came up to me. He introduced himself as Cricket Crabe and asked me if I cared for a couples' dance.

Now I have two left feet, and at balls like this I usually find myself either frozen with catalepsy or sinking into the dance floor. Cricket was a great dancer, though, and with him leading me I was able to twirl around quite professionally.

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“Do you know where I can get a cat?” he asked.

“My cat has a litter. Why don't you take a look? You can have one of the kittens. It would be a bit sad to separate it from its mother, but well.”

I picked out one of the little kittens from my magical handbag and handed it to Cricket. “Its face is dirty, but if you try you might be able to clean it up.”

“How wonderful! I can't believe it,” he said. “I've been looking for a cat all day, and there you are with kittens to spare. What do you call your cat?”

“To be honest, I haven't been able to come up with a name yet. It was Midel the elf who gave her to me, and so I thought of calling her Midel, or little Midel, or perhaps little Cathy. But none of those names sound right.”

“How about Shelly, for `The Shelter'?”

“That doesn't sound soft and cuddly enough,” I said. “It makes me think of hard seashells.”

“Hmm. I'm thinking of a name. ... What is your favorite flower?”

“That's a difficult question! There are so many answers to choose from. Flowers come in many shapes and sizes. There are beautiful ones like roses and tulips. But with beauty often comes vanity and frailty. ... I suppose if there were a competition for the 'best flowers', I would vote for daisies. They're so small and unassuming, but they have such an admirable will to live, and together they make the meadows look beautiful with their little heads.”

“Well then,” said Cricket, “why don't you call your cat Daisy?”

“What a good idea!” I exclaimed. “She's small and cute, like a little white daisy. I should have thought of that before. All right then, Daisy it is!”

And so now my cat is called Daisy, and the kitten that I gave to Cricket is “Little Daisy”.