In which I lied to Franklin Muffinpants

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm)

Franklin Muffinpants speaks

 

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm)

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A name is chosen...see what I go through?

If you follow along you know I take naming an animal very seriously, treating it like any other creative project. I guess it is my imagination, but I always feel a huge responsibility for naming or renaming an animal. It can take me weeks sometimes, to get to see the spirit or intent of the creature. Sometimes it comes easily but often it doesn't. The other thing is I often think, if  I give a name that is not matched with the true destiny of the animal am I shifting its path in life. I mean, if Officer Mittens had been named, say, Macbeth, would he still find a way to join the police academy? I was about to be named Mary, but my paternal grandmother died on the day I was born and I was named Katherine. I can not imagine being named Mary [no offense to all the Mary's but I just am not a Mary].

I posted a list of finalist on social media a few days ago. I was immediately alerted to the fact that one of the names had other insinuations-I think you can see which one. I just didn't see it! But when I did, I decided to leave it on the list since I thought it was a funny misstep. The choices were: Franklin Muffinpants; Spencer Catfish, Esq; St. Francis Buttons; The Honorable Puff; Chief Mittens; and Master Bates.

I assume you can see the one that was deleted, everyone else did but me. 

We were feeling the Spencer Catfish Esq. was the choice. But I realized that night he just did not feel like a Spencer or a Catfish. I have always loved the name and it has been on my animal naming lists over the years. But the kitten has this innocence about him, not really that mischievious, not bossy [of course this could change]. I loved the idea of having a Chief but again, maybe he doesn't want to be an officer. Maybe he wants to be a writer, like Earnest the Pig, or a poet like Paco. 

I suppose too, he might just want to be a cat.

See what I go through?

It became clear to me he had to be Franklin. Not Frank, or Frankie [we've had both and I love thaat name] but he is a Franklin. Franklin Muffinpants. 

But I'm going to keep that list for future needs.

New arrivals...lots of them...and i just don't know

It's getting to the point where Instagram has become my go-to announcement site. I started this blog as a journal of the first farm, and a way to share my stories and art and photography-before social media [remember those glorious days?] I still like it for a way to share longer ponderings and thoughtful pieces that might get lost in the manic highway of the internet.

But I do feel a bit frustrated as I find most of my followers now follow on Instagram and Facebook. I'm feeling like maybe I need to revamp or retred or regroup the site. I do like that I have a history here on the blog that I can easily look back on. I always felt too it was a safer place for people to converse and leave comments-but we all know most people post comments mainly on social media. I've experimented a lot and people just hate leaving their social platforms. I know one wise guy who claims he doesn't need FB any more, that people will flock to his blog no matter what, and when he made a grand announcement that his blog now could have comments [this is news?], there were none and he still needs FB whether he likes it or not [some of you know who I speak of...meow.]

So I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I feel so attached to the blog, but all things shift and change and evolve.

So anyway, that long introduction is over, I have to tell you that we brought home two elder lady goats on Friday, and two babies. I had picked out a playmate for Pickles, and she had already named that baby goat Puddles, but there was a runt on a bottle and I decided she should come home with us. And, I brought home a retired buck, now whethered who happens to be the brother of...Opie. I was not sure about that but said I'd meet him and see. I thought I might compare him too much to Opie which would be unfiar to him, and upsetting to me [I truly miss Opie almost every day especially with the therapy work]. But when I met him, I loved him, he was of course a bottle baby too, like Opie, as they lost their mother at birth. He has a post-buck strut but is very sweet and sometimes I see a bit of Opie in him.

 And then when I was picking up the goats, there appeared this beautiful mellow Maine Coon...totally chill and huge, reminded me of Mister Mosely but bigger. I swooned not once but many times. They mentioned they just happened to have kittens needing homes.  

Oh I'll just look, in case, I said.

I think you know what happened. {Kitty madness is being posted in videos on Instagram}