A Rose By Any Other Name May Smell as Sweet, But Dogs Tend Not to Come When Called By The Wrong Name

I have a bad case of being my own mother lately. My big sister left for college when I was 10 years old and my mom has been calling me by her name ever since. I noticed that I, too, have been calling the baby by her big sister's name, but now it has spread to the dogs.

Poor Booker, I just kept calling him Ziggy. Ziggy was the dog in than kennel before Booker. Now, I try to justify it with the facts that Ziggy and Booker are really pretty much the same dog, personality wise. When trying to stop myself from using Ziggy, I managed to come up with Blocker. He is also big and black like Booker, but I think that was just my feeble attempt to yank a name out of my head that was even somewhat close to what I needed.

Chance has been Rascal for at least half of his stay. Cleo, however, has gotten her name back. Last stay, I called her Chloe all week.