I am often asked, “why, Ocelots”? Is it because of my love of cats? Is it because I have Bengals? Or, on other occasions, I am asked, “what’s an Ocelot”?
In honor of National Tell a Fairy Tale Day, I thought I would share the behind the scenes of how the Ocelots came to be. It isn’t technically a fairy tale, per se, but it did get its start in Germany.
Daniel and I met while we were in the Army and stationed in Germany. I was on a small post near Schwetzingen, the Spargel (White Asparagus) Capital of the World, while Daniel was in Heidelberg, the nearest large city.
I was assigned the additional responsibility of being in charge of my barracks building. Mostly, everyone was well behaved, and all it meant was, I made a cleaning roster, performed shared space inspections, and when Soldiers got locked out of their rooms, I had the master key card to let them back into their rooms.
Before the end of a week, I realized the master key wasn’t working, but our housing office was unable to program a new key card until the following Tuesday. I made a big announcement at our safety briefing before we were released for the weekend, cautioning everyone not to lock themselves out of their rooms because I didn’t have a key. The only option was to call the fire department, and I informed them I listed the information on the bulletin board near my barracks room.
On Sunday morning, Daniel was visiting for a lovely homecooked breakfast. I was excited about making some pancakes and showing off my culinary excellence (in my tiny kitchenette that I worked tirelessly to turn into a kitchen because we didn’t have a Dining Facility on my post).
Knock Knock
I opened the door to find a distressed Soldier who locked herself out of her room. She had placed something in the door to prevent it from locking when she went to do some laundry, so I don’t even remember if she had a phone to call the fire department.
Well, it also wasn’t just any other Soldier. She was my soldier. She was in my charge and a dear friend. And as a compassionate but mildly annoyed at not heeding my instructions Non-Commissioned Officer, I gave her a little bit of side-eye and a smile before inviting her to join us for breakfast.
Daniel looked at me a little uneasy. “Do you want me to go to the store to get some more food?” Little did he know, I ALWAYS have an incredibly well-stocked pantry. I could easily make more pancakes and eggs.
“But do you have any orange juice or anything? I think I’d like some orange juice.”
Alas, I didn’t have any orange juice, I didn’t want him to drive the 10 miles to the grocery store and interrupt our morning plan, but he was bent on going shopping. Instead, he asked one more time if there was anything else I needed while he was out. As I thought about it, I knew some meat would be a nice compliment to the breakfast, so I asked him to pick up some Smokey Links.
“Smoked Lynx? I don’t know where to get smoked Lynx.”
My hearing didn’t discern his meaning, and I tried to explain to him the nature of these smoked sausages that are kind of like hot dogs but even more delicious. I wondered if they weren’t a popular item in Virginia. I hadn’t spent enough time there to know.
“I don’t know about smoked Lynx, but what about smoked Kodkod?”
Kodkod? I’m not sure what that is, but he really must not understand me. Perhaps it’s a dialect thing. “No, Smokey Links silly, the sausages!”
“How about some smoked Caracal? Or some Colocolo, he said.”
“No… Smokey Links,” I repeated for the 12th time. At this point, I was starting to get frustrated. What doesn’t this dude get about it? Go to the store, pick up the meat. It’s probably near the hot dogs or the bacon. It depends on the store. I had only suggested the smokey links because they are tasty, meaty, aren’t spicey, and it’s an easy cleanup.
“What about some Jaguar?” he said. “Or even some Ocelot?”
At the point, he mentioned Jaguars it clicked. The lightbulb turned on, and I realized he was messing with me in an extremely dorky but also endearing way. “Ooo! Some smoked Ocelot! That is what I REALLY want. That would be fantastic!” I gave him a kiss and a pat on the butt, and he was out the door and on the way to the store.
While Daniel was out to the store, I got to work on the pancakes, set the table, and watched a little bit of Anastasia with Alicia. A full hour later, there is another knock at the door.
Daniel is panting heavily.
“Oh my goodness, honey, are you okay‽ What happend‽ I asked.”
“Ocelots. Are. Fast.”
Dead. I was laughing so hard. In the hour it took Daniel to make a 30-minute trip, I had forgotten entirely about the “Smoked Ocelot.”
He then proceeded to tell me this long-winded story about how he was surprised he was able to find the Ocelot in the commissary. Then he got it into his car, but when he got onto the Autobahn, he decided to put the top of the convertible down, and the Ocelot escaped. ‘Ocelots are fast.’
From that day forward, I have called him Mr. Ocelot. A week or so, he called me Mrs. Ocelot (all the pitter patters of feelings), and a couple of weeks later, he proposed.
To be completely honest, we’re kind of weirdos about it. By which I mean, we are committed to it 😂. When we talk to each other, our hands are paws, and if we talk about children, they are cubs. Before we got engaged, we discussed it. He said a condition in getting married was that our first girl would be named Katherine because it is a family tradition. And I agreed as long as we can call her Kitty.
Another example is I used to say, “get your paws out of the food!” If Daniel tried to sneak bits before I have finished preparing a meal or treat. So maybe it’s not as weird as I led on, but we continue to keep the tradition alive.