It all started when I began petitioning to add Walter to our list of potential dog names. JG is against this name-listing because he is a firm believer that one can’t name a dog without seeing it first. I can understand that logic, but it doesn’t hurt to have a few names up my sleeve just in case. Am I right? Of course, I am.
I love Walter as a dog name because I think it can be good for any type. It conjures up all sorts of mental images for me: sensitive, literary Walter from Rilla of Ingleside; Walt Whitman; and – er – Walter Cronkite. Much to my chagrin, JG thinks that Walter is “only for a dumb, dopey dog, like a Basset hound.” What! So I started lobbying, only to find that the crowd was pretty evenly split along pro- and anti-Walter lines. Hmph.
On Sunday morning, JG and I were talking about our eventual dog ownership and the merits of certain names when he turned to me suddenly and said, “Would you agree to get a dog this year if I let you name the dog anything you want?”
I was stunned into silence.
“I could name it anything I want?”
“Well, I trust that you won’t name it anything stupid, like Mrs. Puffball.”
“Hey, that can be shortened to Puffy. Or Diddy, whichever we like better.”
During our discussion of the terms of this new proposal, we agreed verbally that all of the clauses from the original agreement would still be in place except the first, which required JG to finish his master’s degree before getting the dog. The new timeline would land the dog at our house in the July-ish realm. In practical matters, I conceded that I could handle feeding and a daily walk. JG agreed to buy a designated dog blanket for the couch (so as to minimize the shedding situation) and to refrain from holding this naming privilege over my head in the future. Baths and doctor visits would be shared responsibilities.
Normally, I wave off (the constant) pleas to get a dog sooner, but JG has thrown out a surprisingly large bargaining chip in giving up the ultimate naming power. I am not sure what my next move will be.