Year ago, someone dumped two tiny black kittens literally on my stoop. The male was dumber than a box of rocks when it came to not hurting himself; he was constantly smashing his head into walls, he’d run under our kitchen chairs and you’d hear his head go “thunk thunk thunk” against the chair braces like they were xylophone keys. I don’t know how many times I ran over to him while saying, “oh my god, you’re so stupid are you ok?!” I did it so many times, he ended up thinking his name was Stupid. And so it was. And he grew up into a very smart, huge panther who mothered the kittens we took in over the years, and taught them how to be cats. He raised the little orange boy I have that is currently cuddled up with my ill father, and he’s the sweetest thing that ever existed, and not dumb at all! All the other orange cats I know, though… whew boy. I don’t know how some of them lived to adulthood.

Funny aside - the vets office called him Mr. Stupid to give him some respect, lol.