What's in a name
Naming a dog is a very serious business and I am not so sure the dog owners of Aston Peverell have been taking their dog-naming duties seriously. Now that I am allowed to go out for walks - and Ginny is taking me out twice a day as every good dog owner should - I am meeting and making friends (mostly) with the dogs of Aston Peverell. Meeting all these dogs has set me to wondering about the names they've been lumbered with.
Top name for the bitches I've met so far is Rosie - there are four of them. Confusingly there are two ponies called Rosie and at Jake's school there are at least three girls called Rosie. So when someone shouts Rosie in this village bitches, ponies and girls prick up their ears.
Max is a popular name for dogs - and boys. There are two of each.
Some dog owners go out of their way to choose funny (to them) names. Take Blot, Spud and Bimbo. I mean are these names that a dog can hold his head up high about?
I have noticed that people with two dogs often choose names that go together. So far I have met Barnum and Bailey, Cindy and Barbie, and Lapsang and Souchong. These three pairs really do suit their names. Barnum and Bailey are scruffy terriers who run and jump a lot. Cindy and Barbie are ever so pretty poodles. Lapsang and Souchong? Well wouldn't you know? A pair of snooty-nosed Pekes.
Giving dogs human child names seems a popular thing around here. There are two Megans, three Freds and a Matthew. What do these people call their children? Fido, Rex, Rover?
Spangle and Skittle - my two particular friends - are named after popular brands of British sweets. Apparently Spangles were very popular in the 70s and were Liz's favourites when she was a little girl. Skittles are very popular now. But not with Ginny. She has banned all multi-coloured sweets on the grounds that they turn her children into hyperactive monsters. (Clive disputes this. He says his children require no help to turn into hyperactive monsters.)
I'm pleased to say there are no other Arrows (although there is a Beau two doors down - Beau and Arrow, geddit?) My name was given to me by Rachel - my Mum's owner. Most puppies are renamed when they go to their permanent home but my name has stuck - Ginny liked it. Apparently I have a very distinctive arrow-shaped marking on the top of my head. I've never seen it because it's on the top of my head and that's not a part of your body you see very often. Unless you're Clive who contorts himself in front of the bathroom mirror like a circus acrobat in an attempt to gauge the spread of his bald patch.
'It's like the hole in the ozone layer. You know it's there, you know it's getting bigger but you're not sure what to do about it,' he moans.
'In the olden days men rubbed cow pats on their head as a cure for baldness,' Ben helpfully suggested. 'I could get you some from the field at the back of school if you want.' He'd do anything for his father that boy.
Everyone has been shown the top of my head. Ginny takes great pride in pointing it out to anyone who asks how I got my name and I have to sit (not so) patiently while various humans stroke my head and trace the outline of my arrow with their finger.
Naming a dog is a very serious business which is why I am not so happy about my pedigree name. You would think that for a dog with my pedigree, coming from a long line of show champions I'd have ended up with a decent, tongue-twisting pedigree name. The sort of name that worries the Crufts Dog Show presenters.
Ginny has a copy of my Five Generation Pedigree from The Kennel Club. I am descended from show dogs with glamorous names. Show Champions like Canisbay Captivation of Kazval, Dalati Sioni, Ferndel Vogue, Dalati Cymro of Tamaritz. Those are names to be reckoned with. You just know those dogs are going to look really good. So what Pedigree Name do I end up with? Tangerine Toffee! I'm named after a fiddly, hard-to-peel fruit and a sticky, hard-to-chew sweet. Talk about underwhelming.
Ginny asked Rachel how I got my pedigree name. 'The children chose the names. I thought it would be fun for them,' said Rachel.
Fun! Choosing a name isn't meant to be fun. I should have a name I can be proud of. What's going to happen when I win Crufts? Peter Purves will be waxing lyrical about my merry, active personality, my long, muscular neck, my straight, well-boned forelegs, my smooth, ground-covering action. Then he'll say something like: 'What a fine, active dog, a perfect specimen. I bet he's a wonderful dog out on the rolling hills of Worcestershire. He's called Arrow at home and you can see why - he's a fast mover, lovely gait. His pedigree name is Tangerine Toffee . . . ' and he'll stop, convulsed with laughter and Clare Balding will have to step in and rescue the whole show.
I'll never make Crufts with that name. One of the last things my mother told me was to be 'true to my breed.' True to my breed? With a name like that I'll be a laughing stock.
Oh well it could be worse. I met a dog today called Poo. Now that's just cruel.
Top name for the bitches I've met so far is Rosie - there are four of them. Confusingly there are two ponies called Rosie and at Jake's school there are at least three girls called Rosie. So when someone shouts Rosie in this village bitches, ponies and girls prick up their ears.
Max is a popular name for dogs - and boys. There are two of each.
Some dog owners go out of their way to choose funny (to them) names. Take Blot, Spud and Bimbo. I mean are these names that a dog can hold his head up high about?
I have noticed that people with two dogs often choose names that go together. So far I have met Barnum and Bailey, Cindy and Barbie, and Lapsang and Souchong. These three pairs really do suit their names. Barnum and Bailey are scruffy terriers who run and jump a lot. Cindy and Barbie are ever so pretty poodles. Lapsang and Souchong? Well wouldn't you know? A pair of snooty-nosed Pekes.
Giving dogs human child names seems a popular thing around here. There are two Megans, three Freds and a Matthew. What do these people call their children? Fido, Rex, Rover?
Spangle and Skittle - my two particular friends - are named after popular brands of British sweets. Apparently Spangles were very popular in the 70s and were Liz's favourites when she was a little girl. Skittles are very popular now. But not with Ginny. She has banned all multi-coloured sweets on the grounds that they turn her children into hyperactive monsters. (Clive disputes this. He says his children require no help to turn into hyperactive monsters.)
I'm pleased to say there are no other Arrows (although there is a Beau two doors down - Beau and Arrow, geddit?) My name was given to me by Rachel - my Mum's owner. Most puppies are renamed when they go to their permanent home but my name has stuck - Ginny liked it. Apparently I have a very distinctive arrow-shaped marking on the top of my head. I've never seen it because it's on the top of my head and that's not a part of your body you see very often. Unless you're Clive who contorts himself in front of the bathroom mirror like a circus acrobat in an attempt to gauge the spread of his bald patch.
'It's like the hole in the ozone layer. You know it's there, you know it's getting bigger but you're not sure what to do about it,' he moans.
'In the olden days men rubbed cow pats on their head as a cure for baldness,' Ben helpfully suggested. 'I could get you some from the field at the back of school if you want.' He'd do anything for his father that boy.
Everyone has been shown the top of my head. Ginny takes great pride in pointing it out to anyone who asks how I got my name and I have to sit (not so) patiently while various humans stroke my head and trace the outline of my arrow with their finger.
Naming a dog is a very serious business which is why I am not so happy about my pedigree name. You would think that for a dog with my pedigree, coming from a long line of show champions I'd have ended up with a decent, tongue-twisting pedigree name. The sort of name that worries the Crufts Dog Show presenters.
Ginny has a copy of my Five Generation Pedigree from The Kennel Club. I am descended from show dogs with glamorous names. Show Champions like Canisbay Captivation of Kazval, Dalati Sioni, Ferndel Vogue, Dalati Cymro of Tamaritz. Those are names to be reckoned with. You just know those dogs are going to look really good. So what Pedigree Name do I end up with? Tangerine Toffee! I'm named after a fiddly, hard-to-peel fruit and a sticky, hard-to-chew sweet. Talk about underwhelming.
Ginny asked Rachel how I got my pedigree name. 'The children chose the names. I thought it would be fun for them,' said Rachel.
Fun! Choosing a name isn't meant to be fun. I should have a name I can be proud of. What's going to happen when I win Crufts? Peter Purves will be waxing lyrical about my merry, active personality, my long, muscular neck, my straight, well-boned forelegs, my smooth, ground-covering action. Then he'll say something like: 'What a fine, active dog, a perfect specimen. I bet he's a wonderful dog out on the rolling hills of Worcestershire. He's called Arrow at home and you can see why - he's a fast mover, lovely gait. His pedigree name is Tangerine Toffee . . . ' and he'll stop, convulsed with laughter and Clare Balding will have to step in and rescue the whole show.
I'll never make Crufts with that name. One of the last things my mother told me was to be 'true to my breed.' True to my breed? With a name like that I'll be a laughing stock.
Oh well it could be worse. I met a dog today called Poo. Now that's just cruel.
posted by Arrow at 3:35 AM
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