My mom just saw a post from @PepperDog on Twitter: Should adopted dogs get a new name?
Hardly a big question, given what else is going on in the world. As an adopted dog, I say, “If you’re up for adoption, the old cheesy saying is true. I don’t care what you call me. Just call me for dinner and treats.”
My mom changed my name right away. We were in the vet’s office. I was getting the onceover from that nice Dr. Claire at UrbanVet. Of course, I’d never seen her before, but she was very gentle when she poked and prodded. Cathy was saying, “I want to be sure she’s healthy.” I could tell Cathy (she wasn’t my mom yet) was nervous about getting another dog so I just went along with the program. She kind of whispered to the vet, “Do you really think this is a good dog?” Somehow Dr. Claire kept a straight face and sakd yes.
Whew. For awhile I was worried.
Then we went to fill out the paperwork. The lady from the adoption agency had all my records. My mom said, “We are going to change her name. She has the same name as one of my friends and my friend would be very annoyed. I want to name her Gracie.”
Gracie? Where did that come from?
“Aw, she looks like a Gracie,” everyone said.
Later my mom told me, “You are named after the dog who was responsible for Three Dog Bakery. The founders wrote abook about her: Amazing Gracie. Maybe you’ll make me rich and famous.”
So far, my mom says, I’ve just brought her vet bills. But no worries.
My mom really wanted to change Ophelia’s name. “A little pretentious for a cat,” she said. “How about Furball?”
The staff at the vet’s office were horrified. “She’s such a nice cat! Ophelia’s perfect!” they cried.
Personally, I like Furball for Ophelia, because that’s what she is. But she’s a little pretentious and funny, too, just like her name.
Who cares? We’ve got a good home. Did I just hear my mom calling me for dinner?