Kitty might be wearing sneakers, but his name says high society

T.S. Eliot was right. The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter.

The poet, playwright and critic wrote a cat has three different names, an everyday name, a dignified name and a name only the cat knows ... and will never confess.

Friends and readers have pitched in to help me find the right name for the new 5-month-old kitten honoring my home. Yet, once again, I've selected a literary name that my mother scoffs is pretentious. She stubbornly calls the new guy Sneakers in honor of his four white paws that look like high tops. Except she often mispronounces it Snickers.

Looks and personality drove a lot of suggestions for naming the kitty who came to me two weeks ago today courtesy of Best Friends Animal Society, which had cared for him after he was dumped off at their Utah sanctuary and brought him back to health so he was suitable for adoption.

Since he's gray with a white tuxedo chest and underbelly, movie buff Susan McCune wrote: "After reading your description of your new kitty a name occurred to me: Fred Astaire. Black, white -- tuxedo; voila!"

Earl Grey Poupon was suggested by one friend, combining color with tea and mustard. But you have to think of what the name will be shortened to, and Poup wasn't going to sound dignified.

A Vegas friend suggested a Vegas name: Ace. (He might qualify as a flying Ace.)

Journalists weighed in with Typo, Rewrite, Pinot Greyzio and Walter Cronkite. (Guess who nixed my favorite, Typo?)

Then some of the names began evolving from things that happened. After he bit me in the butt with his razor sharp teeth at 2 in the morning, another good friend suggested Vlad the Impaler, the historic figure who was the inspiration for Dracula. And it had a little more cachet than Butt Biter.

My mother likes a plain name (I was either going to be Jane or Nancy) so she suggested Thomas. But should I name my cat after my boss? It seemed wrong. Plus, he's a dog man.

Then there were suggestions I liked, but had negative associations. Oscar Wilde was a good idea, but once you started shouting "No, no, Oscar" when he jumped on the kitchen table, everyone would think I named my cat after the besotted Las Vegas mayor rather than the witty British author.

Dorian Gray, the Oscar Wilde character whose photo aged while he didn't, sounded good but had a nightmarish undertone.

Judy Currier suggested a name that built upon the name of my late kitty, Beau. "I would suggest Bridges ... Beau Bridges, Bridges linking the past to the future, Bridges to mend the heart and take you thru the years to come."

Barbara Baker said, "How about Harley Davidson? Ask any Harley owner and they will tell you their baby purrs like a kitten when handled just right. Many people have written about them, so the name fits your previous literary choices. It's a sexy guy's name."

Sharon Coats' suggestion: "You might be able to resolve the cat-naming dispute by using both a literary name and a shorter nickname. For instance, I have a cat named Dostoevsky and we call him Dusty for short. But, when he misbehaves, he becomes Dostoevsky!" (One of my requirements is that I could spell the name without looking it up.)

Stephanie Wilson had multiple literary-based suggestions -- Noel Coward, Mark Twain, Will Rogers, and Somerset Maugham. (I had considered Mark Twain for his Nevada ties, but the woman who nixed Sherlock Holmes was going to nix Twain.)

George Appleton sent his regards to Whats'isname and my family started referring to the cat as the generic "You Know Who."

"Ignore your mother. The discarded animals are especially worthy of aggrandizement," wrote Mary Keeler, whose new rescued Persian bears the formal Persian name Zoroaster but is called Zorro, a testimonial to how right Eliot was.

So what did I decide on? The name my mother hates?

I stayed with the first name that came to me. The less-than-perfect romantic hero from Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice."

Mr. Darcy.

Sometimes known as Vlad the Impaler. A cat with more aka's than a mobster.

And he's not responding to any of them.

Jane Ann Morrison's column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0275.