An 8.5# munchkin came into our lives two weeks ago. (BTW, she now weighs almost 11#.)
And this old lady has felt like she has been dragged behind an eighteen-wheeler for most of that time.
I decided on her first day “home” that we had misnamed her. Josie? Really? It had a cute ring to it, especially when paired with “…and the Pussycats,” since she’s going to have the five-feline back-up band for the rest of her life.
But, no. “Josie” is way too tame.
What should her name have been?
As in “hell-en wheels.”
This dog has energy to burn, and enough of the devil in her soul that much of that energy is spent devising ways to do exactly what we don’t want her to do. She understands what “no” means. She knows what “Come here!” means. She just…chooses not to obey. With a vengeance.
And the name “Helen” would also bring to mind Helen Keller, who eventually became a beloved and brilliant writer and humanitarian. But she had to have that “ah-ha” moment first—the one (which may or may not have actually taken place) depicted in “The Miracle Worker;” where Helen suddenly realizes that the world is full of things and things have names and communication may happen.
We keep going through the training motions with this pup…but I don’t have the sense that she has figured out exactly what she does that earns her that bit of hot dog. She seems to associate the treat more with the words, “Good girl!” than with the fact that she DID something we want her to repeat.
C’mon, Helen (I mean, Josie)! Let’s see that light bulb flash on above your head!
She’s cute, anyway.