The arguing started on the way to lunch before we picked up the pup. “I want to name her Daisy,” my son Jack said.
“You can’t. That’s the name of John’s dog,” I reminded him. (It’s a cute name, but sometimes we babysit his friend’s dog, Daisy. That would be too weird.)
“How about Rosie?” Jack asked
“She’s not red,” my husband answered.
“I like Angel Eyes,” my daughter suggested. “Or Precious.”
“No,” my husband and I said together. Precious? I’d rather not think of Silence of the Lambs every time I call my dog.
“We really like the name Kona,” I told the kids. We’ve been to Hawaii, we love the city of Kona on the big island, and she’s brown like Kona coffee.
“We don’t like Kona,” Jack said. “It sounds dumb”
So the names bounced back and forth over lunch. Saco, because we also love Saco, Maine? No. Too goofy sounding, like a creepy clown puppet or one of the stooges. Chloe? No. Jack has a friend named Chole; too weird he decided.
“How about Shredder or Killer?” Jack asked.
We didn’t even answer him.
“There are more cool boy names than girl names,” he informed us, rather discouraged.
As big Dunkin’ Donut fans, we thought Dunkin would be cute, plus she’s brown like coffee, and my husband drinks Dunkin’ coffee like they’re paying him to do it. But we decided Dunkin doesn’t sound like a girl name. I was getting discouraged, too. Perhaps Jack was right; maybe there are more cool boy names.
“Shelby?” I offered.
“No,” my husband said.
“Why?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we’ll just have to see her and see how she acts before we decide,” he husband suggested.
“Hopefully we won’t be calling her Chewie. Or Barky,” I said.
I wonder if everyone has a tough time naming a pet. To me, a pet’s name should be meaningful. And it has to be something you don’t mind hearing or saying seventy times a day. (Which is why we nixed the name Slick Slider Snowball for our new kitten and settled on Spencer instead. My daughter came up with that one. Has any pet in the history of mankind been named Slick Slider Snowball?)
So, we picked up our little nameless bundle of love, and started driving home.
“Greenie, because her eyes are green?” I suggested. That got a resounding no. I was starting to wonder if we should just sell the naming rights to her. Could we call her Coke or Pepsi?
As we pulled off the Thruway exit toward home, I was feeling antsy. I didn’t like not having a name for the dog. “What about Hershey? We love chocolate and she’s brown and sweet.”
“I like that,” my husband said.
“Yeah, I like it, too,” Jack said.
“Well, I don’t like it,” Riley said, crossing her arms. (Probably because she didn’t come up with it.) “I like Dunkin.”
“Dunkin can be its middle name,” I offered. Three people agreeing on a name was the closest we’d come yet; I wasn’t willing to give up.
And so it was agreed. Hershey Dunkin the sweet, little brown pup named after our poor food choices. Maybe we should ask for a naming rights payment; or at least some free coffee to keep us awake during all those early potty calls.
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Have you missed any of the articles in this series?
If so, you can find them at:
The Bringing Up Puppy Series page.
Related posts:
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – There Until the End
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Second Thoughts
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Loose
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Lost
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Potty Trained?
