*sigh* The Fourth was not with us today.
I didn't name my car but I did come to think of her (yes, her - a Citroen Xsara Picasso is very definitely not masculine) as Horrorcow. For those not familiar with the How To Train Your Dragon books, Horrorcow is Fishlegs' hunting-dragon - a hopelessly un-aggressive vegetarian dragon. She has a gentle mooing personality. Much like my car.
The car went in for its MOT the other day, failed on several points and went back to the garage this morning to fix things. But the garage rang later in the morning to say they'd discovered another more drastic problem and we realised we'd reached the point where fixing it would cost more than the car was worth. So she's gone for scrap and I feel unaccountably sad. I learned to drive in my thirties and although I liked my first car (now My Beloved's car, or rather 'our car' for the time being), it was the Picasso that was really my car, the one I felt happy and comfortable driving, the one that got the kids and I around, so it's the one that I think of as my first car.