A Holy Norse Trinity: Announcing an Addition to the Menagerie

It’s time for another quick life update. This week’s post is a short (but very sweet) one, for we have a new member of the menagerie, 9-week old seal mitted Ragdoll kitten, Freya, or more formally, Miss Freya Rose, who is currently perched on the table beside me and chewing on my ponytail as I type these words, supine on the couch that she had, only moments earlier, been zealously shredding with her tiny claws.

Now, some of you may faintly recall that not too long ago, I announced the arrival of another new animal, this one of the canine variety. And in fact, I posted back in January about our new three-legged Border collie mix, Fenrir. There I shared a few lessons that Fen had imparted on me in his short time with us, including such insightful observations as dogs are gross. As for Freya, I can’t say that I have yet learned much from her (though her wisdom doubtless knows no bounds). But I am able to confirm what I already knew, which is that two cats are better than one and kittens especially are freakishly cute, fuzzy little fiends that will happily provide you with hours of amusing distraction.

In addition to being a constant, tiny source of strange behaviors and new smells for Fenrir (indeed, he can’t seem to keep his nose out of her backside, which, we believe is the source of his recent eye gunk – I reiterate that dogs are gross), Freya is also joining her fellow feline resident, Odin. Yes, there is a theme here, even if it isn’t a particularly original one. The Norse mythology angle began with Odin, whose name I chose due to to certain symbolic qualities that resonated with the strange and tragic way we found each other. For that story, you’ll have to check out the post where I chronicled our meeting, but for now, we’ll just say that it dealt largely with themes of death and rebirth and fate. Intriguing, yes?

Fen came next in our Norse saga, his name loosely inspired by the mythological monster wolf, Fenrir, who eventually came to devour Odin and bring about the destruction of the known world (again, I said loosely). With the new kitten’s arrival, it was clear that the name Freya – goddess of love and beauty who spends her days riding around in a cat-drawn chariot – was the obvious choice. The only choice, really.

Unfortunately, a certain member of the household did not see it this way – five, soon-to-be six-year old Lizzie, my boyfriend Nathan’s daughter for whom the kitten was, technically, a birthday present. We agreed that since Freya is Lizzie’s cat, the christening would be up to her, although when the time came, we gently suggested that she consider the name Freya. Lizzie agreed that she would call her this while she thought of a suitable name – and then promptly announced that she wanted to name her Rose.

Now, I know the kid’s five and really it’s her cat, but… Rose? Although I suppose that’s not as bad as her original suggestion of Sparkles (fortunately that was quickly axed when we pointed out that Lizzie already has a favorite stuffed animal by that moniker). I mean not to sound whiny, but I found the cat. I feed her and clean her litter box and go halfsies on her vet bills and expenses, so she is also kinda (definitely) my cat. And I, for one, prefer my names to be meaningful. I feel a particular satisfaction when there is a theme, an underlying sense of connected, shared meaning between things. So you see, her name just had to be Freya. Anything else would simply be false, would leave a foul taste and a hollow ring.

And that is how we’ve arrived at the eye-rollingly Millennial double-barreled Freya Rose – a deal struck with a child in the naming of her beloved new pet. Because I, too, am a child, utterly unyielding in this matter. It’s a compromise that works well enough – We can call her Freya or Rose or both! And how cute is Frey or Frey-Frey! – but which I think that secretly neither Lizzie nor I are quite happy with.

As for Freya Rose, she couldn’t give two chirrups (which she lets lose quite regularly) about her name. She doesn’t even know it yet. She’s just content to bask in the romping bliss of kittenhood, happy to spend her days chasing Odin’s tail and stealing cat naps on Fenrir’s bed.