Everyone knows my name is Hemingway.  No, I don’t have six toes.  Mom chose that name ‘cuz she liked the author.  Then she got another kitty and she named him Shakespeare.  He wasn’t with us that many years and then she brought another ginger kitty home and named him Steinbeck, after another one of her favorite authors.  She had decided she wanted us to have a blog and wanted us to have literary names.  She also didn’t want us to have names that everyone else had.  She’s strange that way.

Enough of the background information.  My question to all you readers is:  if I have the name Hemingway, why does Mom insist on calling me other names?  Do the rest of you have the problem?  I call Mom, Mom.  That’s all I call her.  I call my little brother, Steinbeck…….well, maybe sometimes I call him Brat……but that’s another story for another day.

Here’s a recent picture that Mom took of me.

One of Mom’s friends likes to call me Mr. Regal ‘cuz I’m always dressed in my finest tuxedo, ready for a party.  When Mom took this picture, she decided it really did show me as Mr. Regal.  I think I look quite like a king in that picture.

She also has another crazy name for me.  Would you believe she calls me, Inaway?  She said she came up with that name ‘cuz I’m always in the way.  Can I help it if she wants to walk wherever I stretch out on the floor?  I say it’s her fault.  I say that I get a vote on this and I’ll go for Mr. Regal instead of Inaway.

What do you think?