Do parents ever wonder how their children might turn out if given different names?
The cultures I studied gave people new names often, and always with a reason.
For example, I was given a new name when I entered seminary, then another new name when I studied with a west coast peoples, another name when I studied with plains people, a name when I studied with the Celts, …
And my parents had several names for me, based on my behavior.
Raccoons, we’ve noticed, give their children fascinating names.
We wonder where they get them.
Is there a book of raccoon names?
Probably not. Much of The Wild has similar naming tendencies.
I’m sure there’s a book they all use.
I’d like to see it someday.
If only to learn what my real name is.
First off, it’s Chestette, not Chester.
Second, this post’s title is a librage to Le Carre’s Smiley’s People (a good if dated read).
The clan is much shyer than Hyacinthe’s. We’ve come out and found them at odds with each other, which is a shame because we put out quite a bit of food. We now create several piles and place them relatively far apart. The different families still snorf at each other but blows are avoided.
Quite different than years ago when we’d have near twenty raccoons from three or four families merrily munching side-by-side.
But we also know there are more predators out now than in the past.
And one must always be on guard for predators.
At least in The Wild, predation is honest, up front, and direct.
I wish it was that way in the Two-Legged world.
I truly do.
I mentioned in Fingers Are Tasty, Too, Two-Legger that some of our children are…feisty.
Specifically, I mentioned the need for nibbling preventive toeware.
You thought I was kidding?
So far no wounding, no bloodying, but I’m staying on my guard.
And they are patient.
One of the joys of surrogate parenting is counting digits to make sure all is well.
Not theirs, mine.
Remember my mentioning that one little feller was going to be trouble?
His name is Samuel and I was right.
He’s a toe nibbler.
Nothing serious as of yet.
Although he keeps a’tryin’.
Give him time…or me coming out in my slippers…and he’s bound to get one of mine.
Remember being called to dinner?
Was there a mad rush in your house as everyone took their seat at the table?
All the day’s hard labor forgotten around the laughter and banter, the teasing and catching up on each others’ activities away from home?
Who was seen flirting at the bus stop?
Who was caught taking apples from Farmer Duhlgren’s orchard?
And what did mother spend half a day preparing? With fresh steaming biscuits for the gravy?
Yeah, it wasn’t like that at my house, either.
But here’s a happy family, so let’s enjoy their pleasures with them.