By June 14th, Little Scruffy got tired of travelling in the cat carrier. Giving in to a crying baby seems to be part of our nature, so on the way to work, he was allowed to roam free. When I opened the cage, the little guy scrambled up my arm and perched where he could see the road.
Every once in awhile, I'd pat him on the head and say;
"You're such a little peanut!"
More and more, I called him Peanut until the name stuck, but it wasn't fair to change from Little Scruffy to Peanut. Jane had named him first.
Hence, we compromised, and he became known as
Little Scruffy Peanut