On the way home we talked about perfect cat names. Just right names, silly names, appropriate feral cat-type names. The boys were still at the Scooby-Doo cartoon age. I mentioned Josie and the Pussycats and the name "Josie" stuck. Beautiful but fun, I wanted her to have a more proper name than a nickname. So, Josephine it might be. Or, better yet, Josepheline. A play on words as exciting as her little personality. And since the beach would always be a part of her, I added Pearl, but spelled it "Purrl" because her motor was (and is) always running.
Exuberantly, she will dash through a nighttime backyard flickering orange with bonfire light, easily climbing ten feet into a wild dogwood treetop and shimmying carefully back down when she's done showing off her feline talent. Loyally she trots after us on cold North Carolina evening winter walks for 30 or 40 minutes. She drags home baby bunnies and squirrels each spring. If we can't save them, she eats them. All. It is sad and perplexing, but deep inside, I know this, too, is a part of her. When we brought her home we knew she was feral, and you can't remove feral from a cat who deeply loves her wild life as well as her tame family.