It had been an eleven-year stretch of being “dog free.”
Hubs and I both agreed, it had been great having a dog, but it had also been great not having a dog.
Then small humans came along. And small humans really like pets. Our kids, being the little troopers they are, did not falter in their incessant heckling of us to “CanWeGetADog?CanWeGetADog?CanWeGetADog??”
Hubs and I surrendered. But only after determining they were both old enough to chip in on critical pet tasks. You know, fun ones like:
*Peeing the dog
*Scooping up poop
*Peeing the dog.
*Mopping up barf
*Peeing the dog.
So off-a-puppy hunting we went.
We fell in love with a brown, furry little number of the Cocker Spaniel persuasion. He was a dolly.
When I held him for the first time..it was love.
“What’s his name?” I asked as I wrote the check.
His previous owner pursed her lips and said, “Well. That’s an interesting story.”
Owner went on to tell of the story of our new puppy and how he was the last of the litter of 7 to “pop out.” His six siblings ahead of him were instantly assigned names from the cast of Scooby Doo (Velma, Daphne, Fred, Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy,).
When our little fella came down the chute, they were fresh out of names. Undaunted, they turned to their youngest child and asked what she wanted to name the last puppy.
Little Tot glanced around the room and without batting an eye proclaimed “SWEATSHIRT.”
Now, call me crazy…..but I am NOT going through life calling my new puppy “Sweatshirt. “
“No biggee”, I reassured. “We will figure out a name for him.”
Great plan, only somewhere between Pick Up Point A and Home…our daughter decided our new little boy puppy was not a boy at all…but a girl dog. Then I made the mistake of asking her what she wanted to name the dog.
“EMILY,” she shrieked. “His name is Emily!”
OK..that didn’t go well.
It took the good part of 24 hours and some gentle ribbing from the neighbors before our Sara finally conceded that “Emily” was not a good name for a boy puppy.
Finally after much debate, we recycled the Scooby Doo name Fred and hall-ah-lu-ya the damn dog was NAMED.
We love our Cocker Spaniel. Except when he does bad things on the floor. Then he’s a Crapper Spaniel.