Jungle names

My poor mug-muffins.  Today was vet day.  

And today, I realized I had inadvertently named them with jungle names.  

How did I come to this mundane realization?  

George was alone with me in the exam room panting as he does when he has been too long in a place he doesn't want to be, while Simba was getting a blood draw.

George walked towards the door from time to time, and returned when I asked if he was leaving without me.  

Chocolate brown, liquid eyes, glanced at me nervously as he stood behind the loveseat mouth open breathing into the wall.  

He doesn't trust me, because I let him go for a blood draw.  I told him I was there for him , as he was for me when I had to climb over snowbanks in Ohio, when I am slipping on my LL Bean shoes he holds me in balance, when I need a pal.

None of that worked so I fell back on my default -- sang him a song.  Singing a song to any of my animals has never calmed them down, but I try it every time.

George, George, George of the jungle brave as he can beeeeeeeeeee, George, George, George of the jungle pal to you and meeeeeee…

Now those of you of a certain era, who know the song, know I have the lyrics wrong.  I just looked them up and listened to the song - I totally had the song wrong.  But that’s who I am; the gal who can’t get the song quite right, but sings in the spirit of the song to my companion George who holds steady at 82.6 lbs.  

Now some of you may be thinking 82 pounds!  That dog must be huge.  No, he’s a skinny dog, with lots of muscle, the biggest of which is his heart.  He is gentle, always near me and doesn’t pull on lead.  My George is a Prince.

But back to the jungle.  Simba came to me as King Earl.  He is indeed the ruler of my universe.  I gave him the name Simba because he had the square jaw of a lion.  He is one of the most intuitive animals I have ever had.  Regardless of the daylight savings time that occurs in states, other than Arizona - sky scraping beautiful desert mountain views - he is always on time.  7 am (Daylight Standard Time or Standard Time) unless I had a 6 am conference call in which case he would start tapping me at 5:45 am.  Yes, Simba.  

The cat the house sitter never saw.  The cat who wouldn’t come out for anybody, but John.  This magnificent creature was howling in his crate, and yet, somehow I think it was more “why aren’t you petting me mortals” than “I don’t want to be here”.  He was happy to be out of his crate; he wanted the attention justified for one who is King of the Jungle…. 

And that’s when I realized…I have named both my animals jungle names.

A Prince and a King, how lucky am I to spend time with these creatures…