I had this conversation today.
Setting: the Meow Mobile, a traveling spay/neuter truck in Miami Beach.
~
Hi. I'm here to pick up my cat.
"Last name?"
Renzi.
(goes inside truck to get information, and returns with cat in carrier, and papers)
"Okay, we don't have all the information for your kitten's microchip. What is it's name?"
Gertie. G-e-r-t-i-e.
"Great." (writes name on microchip form) "Everything went fine. Here is the number for the microchip. Although you marked the forms 'female,' but it's a male."
(pause)
What?
"Your kitten. It's a male."
Are you sure?
"Well, based on the fact that we removed two testicles, yes I'm pretty sure."
That was a stupid question.
"It's okay."
How did I get that wrong?
"On a kitten, it can hard to see the fuzzy little balls. But they're there. Or they were."
I had no idea. When she pees, she squats down, so I thought she was a girl. Or I guess I should say, I thought he was a girl.
"Male cats don't lift their legs like dogs."
I guess not. (Look at cat in carrier, suddenly a complete stranger) Now what should I name him?
"Do you want another 'G' name? Maybe Gary, or Gordon."
I'm not sure he's a Gordon.
(pause)
"Okay, well..."
Sorry, I'll stop freaking out in front of you.
"It's alright."
Now I know how Cher felt.
"What?"
Never mind.