The big fundraiser for the Humane Society every summer is the Wag-n-Walkathon, a Saturday at the park filled with a walk and fun games for the animals and people. One year I was given the honor of leading the walk, and I was also given a cute little Pug named “Naked.”
This was so they could say we were walking “Naked.”
At any rate, I asked you about pet names because a) it would give me a chance to brag about my dog in this post and b) I just love hearing pet name stories. You guys totally delivered, and as a reward, you get a picture of these two cuties who are not mine, but those of a friend.
Pickles and Monkey. I want to completely squish their faces off.
My mom is Dr. Doolittle and we’ve had everything from rabbits and birds to dogs, cats and horses as pets. When it comes to indoor pets—minus fish—there’s been Kilo, Grover, Mitten, Gonzo, Skeeter, Cromwell, Lucy (as in Lucifer), Wolfka, Wendell and Chauncey.
That’s the short list, one that doesn’t include the million other outdoor creatures (and lawn gnomes) that have been given a permanent identity.
This is where I divert your attention away from the fact that we name lawn gnomes and get to the part about how my mom’s dog Chauncey is super smart.
This is his pile of toys.
Well, I should say that this is part of his pile of toys, as some get stashed for a few weeks and then brought back out as a “surprise” to liven things up. As you can see, there’s no shortage of options for the furry little guy to bring out and fling, and he will often completely redecorate the living room by doing just that.
But the cool thing is that my mom has assigned a name to every single one of these toys—most of them sports-related— and the freaking dog knows them each by name and will dig to the back and bottom of the pile to search for and retrieve:
Grandy, Chucky, Hippo, Mags, Gator, Bumble, Rocky, Jiri, Stinkin’ Raccoon, Purple Polly Polanco, Puppy, Huey, JoPa, Monka, Bob-a-Monka, Bunny, Tiger, Migs, Burger, New Toy (someone dropped the name ball there,) Baby, Zetts, Chicken, ChrisMoose, Ducky, Bite Me, Bushcka, Platty and any number of golf balls, which are his favorite toys ever.
That’s the short list.
And in case there’s any confusion, there is a “Monka”—a monkey with rope arms and legs, and then there is “Bob-a-Monka”—a monkey who has lost his rope arms and legs.
We’re still looking into the incident.
Considering there are dozens of options for Chauncey to chose from, the fact that he has about a 99 percent accuracy rating of selecting the correct toy—even if it’s hidden somewhere around the house—is pretty amazing.
Then again, maybe I’m just jealous. As I’ve said before, if there was an award for putting stuff "where I won’t lose it" and then losing it, I would totally win that award.
And then I would probably lose it.
But if I told Chauncey what the name of it was, I’m pretty sure he could find it.
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