While I was filling in my comments and voting for our pets (4) on the Berea Arts Council Facebook site, it occurred to me to explain the "names from the natural world" that our creatures have acquired in the day to day scrum of living. Frollie was the first; it seemed very natural (Ha) to also tag her with Froggie. Once that got started, Simon also became Salmon, Dexter became Duckster, and little sweet, ankle-nipping Schuster just naturally fell into Rooster! So, what fun! The creatures respond equally well to either name, especially when being called for supper.
Now then, one more pattern of events to record in the way of Behavior Modification: Simon sat next to me on my big blue chair almost all of the evening last night, as I was watching an episode of Midsomer Murders (we have gone through all of Death in Paradise and all of the George Gently stories, what a marvellous character) and eating bowls of fresh watermelon. Simon and I share the handicapped-useable, large-handled fork. Why not? About midnight, with the watermelon all consumed, Simon decided it was time to go to bed for the night. I tilted the chair so that he could jump down. He did so accordingly, but immediately encountered a problem, which I may have explained before, long ago. The sofa was occupied by "the wife" who had fallen asleep at the far end and "the Dexter" spread out at the other. No room for little brother.
Simon goes to Mary's end, and instead if looking up at her, he looks at me from across the room. It is a straight shot along the sofa to my chair. He looks at me, gives me "the look" and barks once. If I could ever capture "the look" that would be a contest winner for certain. He barks once as if to say, "get over here immediately and lift me up there!" Everyone in this house gives me orders, one way or another. Well, what's a fork-sharing, watermelon sharing brother to do? I put the story on paws (couldn't resist), put down the iPad, leave the chair. He puts his paws on the sofa so I can lift him, hand under chest and hand under butt. He understands my infirmities, however one spells it, and I pick him up, put him on the sofa between Dexter and "the wife!" He settles down immediately while the other two shift and scramble to accommodate him. And the evening continues. Mary continues sleeping while Barnaby brings the current case to its satisfying conclusion, Dexter eventually gets down and goes elsewhere, and Schuster, from the top of the love seat, takes it all in before deciding it is time to go out for the last time this evening. That involves bouncing by my chair, whining, turning over on the floor next to my chair so I can give him a belly rub first as well as a butt scratch and so on. But Barnaby solves the mystery, and Schuster eventually goes out, howling into the night, along with the other 3.
I have a theory that the best known guest actor in almost any mystery story will turn out to be the guilty party in the end. In the credits at the beginning of the story, I saw Stephen Moyers name last night, the only guest actor I knew, and sure enough, an hour and a half later, guess who dunnit? Yes! 85% of the time that is the way it works! Some of the fun then becomes in trying to see the proper clues before the detective does. I learned this principle, or a slight variation from watching Perry Mason years ago. There the villain was always the one character who had no reason to kill the victim. I could hit that one almost 100% of the time. "Best-known guest" is simply a variation of that insight. If you do not say anything about the principle, people watching with you will think you are a genius. I've been fooling people for years!