I like dead guys

I have a theme with pet names. Most of my critters have been named after philosophers/great thinkers, and artists. And most of them happen to be dead guys. Critters really don't care what you call them and I took a few liberties. I had a leopard frog named Shakespeare and a beta named Nostradamus. That fish had sort of an ironic death. His head got crushed by one of the glass marbles at the bottom of his habitat. Perhaps he saw it coming.

Then there's the bunnies. Copernicus was a huge white rabbit. If I new she'd get so big, I would have named her Harvey. Perky didn't last long, maybe a bit over a year. She lived the longest out of the whole litter though. Next came So_Crates. He's an old guy now, going on about 13. He lives with a friend of mine and their dog and several cats quite harmoniously. And of course now I have Voltaire, my favourite breed of rabbit: a French breed called Hotot. So, in keeping with the theme I named her after the dead French guy.

I had two cats follow me home last summer, so I took them in until they could be re homed. Stevie Nicks, and Rasputin. I broke the theme a little bit with Stevie. I originally wanted to call her Spooky-- she was all black with striking green eyes. But the day she followed me I was wearing a flowy green dress, and she didn't answer to Spooky. So Stevie it was. Rasputin got her name because of her eyes, which I can only describe as 'electric pumpkin' in colour, or perhaps Ra Ra's eyes were flaming gold...

Back to Voltaire, as in the dead guy. I was vaguely familiar with his work but fell in love with him in New Jersey. I had purposely been avoiding 'Candide' for years, but happened upon a book in a private library while visiting family. It was one of those Reader's Digest type books and had several of Voltaire's pieces in it, including 'Candide'. I passed the play up for the moment.

I wish I knew what book it was so I could hunt down some of those poems and essays. They were hilarious. Like piss-your-pants-cry-so-hard-you-can't-breathe hilarious. I vaguely remember something about apples and possibly a mystic.

Years later I happened to catch a bit of 'Candide' on the radio. I was doing something in the kitchen when suddenly 'You were dead, you know' came floating over the airwaves. I managed to hunt down some information about that particular production and Panglos's song about syphilis had me in a fit of laughter. It was the production done at the  Baltimore Symphony orchestra in 2015 or 16, if you're curious.

So, yeah... I like dead guys.