How to Name a Dog

The most popular dog name in our town is Lucy.  We know that because of license registrations.
A family at our daughters' school has a Lucy.  Here she is, although she's doubled in size since this photo was taken a few months ago.

Lucy

Years ago dogs often had double names, like horses.  On top of that they had nicknames.  Below is a picture of Claudia and Fly Boy.

Claudia (top), Fly Boy (bottom)

Fly Boy was my dad's dog as a child.  He was already named when they got him.  Perhaps it had something to do with his prodigious jumping ability.  He could jump like a kangaroo or "fly", but only in one direction.  He could jump into his outdoor pen with ease, but impailed himself on efforts to jump out.  The ground was level on each side.  "Dumbest dog in the world," Dad says in Follow the Dog Home.

Dee Dee was my dad's first dog.  Dee Dee was short for Dimity Davis.  

Dee Dee (foreground), 1941

There was Frisky the Mongrel, who was better known as "Runner" because that's what he did--and usually away from home.  His speed was impressive.  So was his reading ability.  One day after a lengthy search, Dad's family found him sitting under a street sign that read Essex Avenue.  Right street, wrong town.  Runner was a couple of miles away from his true home on Essex Avenue in Montclair, NJ.

Susie and Family, 1988

Susan Marie--there's those two names again--was the family Golden Retriever.   My mom and dad had an arrangement.  She would get to name the boys, he could name the girls.  Mom and dad had three sons: Chris, Kevin and Michael.  Dad loved the name Susan Marie.  But with no girls to name, he named the dog after the daughter he never had.  We all called her Susie.

Left to right.  Kevin, Samantha, Bob holding Annie & Beverly

We are currently on our second German Shepherd.  The first was Tiffany, the second is Beverly (seen above).  We give our Shepherds girly girl names to take the edge off the reputation.  "You can't name a German Shepherd Tiffany," more than a few people have offered.  "You gotta give them a strong name like Duchess or Olga."

Uh, no we don't.

I bumped into a very cute Corgi the other day who was being walked by a young high school girl.  I like Corgis.  Their faces are as happy as a Bulldog's face is sad.  I asked the girl what the dog's name was.  She said, "Annie."  Just like my dad's Corgi, Annie, seen in the family photo above.

Annie the Corgi

Winnie the Bulldog

One final one.  Years ago I saw a high school boy walking an odd looking dog around a lake in Central California.  The dog looked like it could have been from outer space, or from Guam which is legendary for strays, or "boonie dogs."  The dog's name was Yigo, pronounced Gee'-go.  "How did you get that name?" I asked.

"Well my dad was in the Air Force and we lived in Guam.  Guam was the name of our village.  He's named after our village.  Nobody's ever heard of it."

Not true.  Not only did I know where Yigo was, I'd been there, having lived in Guam in the mid 1990s.  The dog's name sparked a much lengthier conversation after that.

Have a cool dog name story?  Share it.

When Dogs Play Favorites

I made a simple post on our Facebook page this morning, and the response was overwhelming.  It was a picture of my daughter, Amanda, and Beverly between pillows.  The picture says a lot about their close relationship, and that picture is a snapshot of a broader canvas.  Do dogs play favorites?  I don't think there's any doubt about it.

I'm not even going to try back it up with science, but I know what I see, and I remember what I've read.  The original mission of dogs was to serve.  Specific breeds had specific attributes that made them good for whatever the job called for.  But things evolved, and sometimes reversed themselves.  It's a huge generalization, but most dogs I know are now servees, not servers.  And if a dog needs/wants something, it goes to who services them best.

Our previous German Shepherd, Tiffany, was getting up there in years when we had children.  Tiffany had achy bones.  She much preferred the attention that Samantha payed from a safe distance than say an Amanda in your face specialty.

Samantha reading to Tiffany, 2007

 

Amanda up close and personal with Beverly, 2012

Beverly is all about facials.  She'll give and take one from anyone, but nobody makes her face sparkle as much as Amanda.  

Susie, our Golden Retriever from years ago had a sense of adventure.  My brother Chris was probably the more adventurous sibling.  When the jeep rolled up, Susie hopped in.  It'll pain my dad to read this, but Susie was probably most partial to Chris.

Don't worry Dad, this is for you.  Danielle, our Cairn Terrier was his dog.  She spent plenty of time with us kids, but when Dad came home from work, Danielle was all his.  I don't know what it was, I just think Danielle really valued authority, and saw him as the Alpha dog.

My brother Michael Walsh with Danielle, 1979

If it's playtime, Beverly looks to me.  And why not?  I love to play, and she always gives me a break  from the honey do list.

Beverly, all ready to go!

And when Beverly is not feeling well, she goes to Jean.  Don't we all?  She doesn't get chicken soup out of it like the rest of us, but Beverly gets what she needs, when she needs it most--a mother's gentle hands and compassion.

Jean with Beverly, 2012

Who does your dog play favorites with, and why?

Who's the Rescue Here?

When we wrote Follow the Dog Home, I told everyone that they would see themselves and their stories in ours.  Here's just one example of that.

Several months ago my neighbor, Bob, lost his beloved Bulldog named, Shakespeare.  Shakespeare was as cool as his name.  He'd ride with Bob to the town dump every morning.  A Bulldog riding shotgun in a white pickup truck?  He really was a junkyard dog.  It was a crushing loss when Shakespeare passed away, and Bob wasn't really sure he could go through the pain of losing another dog--which always happens somewhere down the road.  Eventually the loneliness wore him down.  A couple of days ago I saw Bob walking a new dog, a rescue named, Marlo.  Bob and Marlo looked so happy together.

Bob and Marlo

Bob's story reminds me of another Bob--my dad.  Like my neighbor, Dad went through a tough stretch after losing what he thought was going to be his last dog.  It's hard for us to imagine why Dad was so sad about losing Daisy the Dalmatian, because that dog was almost impossible to love.

Crazy Daisy

If you touched Daisy, she went bonkers.  In the book, my brother Mike describe it as something close to living with a wild animal, not a pet. Somehow Dad loved this troubled dog and took her loss very hard.  He admits he was in a funk for months after her death.   It got bad enough that his wife, Mary, told him "Go get yourself a dog."

He did, a Corgi named Annie.  She rescued my dad, and he's been smiling ever since.

Happy Annie

Happy Bob Walsh

 I'm wondering, have you lost a dog, then said "That's it, I'm done," only to change your mind later?

Dogs and the Sick

It's a joy to find a book that fits your needs and reading desires.  It's another thing, a better thing, when that book finds you.  Yesterday we had a book signing at Unleashed by Petco in Wellesley.  Some people came specifically to see us and buy the book.  Others, I guess you could say, stumbled upon us.

There was a nice man who shared that there was an illness in his family.  He wondered whether now was an appropriate time for that sick person to have a dog in her life.  My dad and I were able to share the story of how our Golden Retriever, Susie, sat bedside vigil when my mom was dying of cancer.  That meant a lot to the man.  He bought a book and remarked about how he fortunate he felt to have met us while browsing for dog biscuits, or something of that kind.  He came to the store with one thing in mind, but left with what he really needed.

L to R, Michael, Christopher, Carole and Kevin Walsh with Susie, 1988.

Similar moments in my life introduced me to books that have had such an impact on me: When Bad Things Happen to Good People, The Prophet and Tuesdays with Morrie.

L to R, Bob Walsh, Beth Faye, Susan Spielman with Poodle Ginny,  Kevin and Samantha Walsh

Plenty of other folks came into the store and bought books with good cheer.  We cheerfully signed and took pictures with them.  But the picture I have in my head the day after was the look on that man's face; and his realization that he found what he was looking for in a place that he least expected.


     

Kevin (left) with Zach Hill

I've said it before.  When you're an author, you should always have a copy of your book with you.  You might just bump into someone for whom it makes a most appropriate gift.  Yesterday was another one of those times.

The Philadelphia Flyers were coming to town to play the Boston Bruins.  Having grown up in Philadelphia and covering news and sports there, I know quite a few people in the Flyers front office and on the broadcast team.

Zach Hill is the Flyers media guy and he's "good people."  We always catch up whenever he comes to town.  He made it a point to let me know he'd been following the publicity of Follow the Dog Home and was very encouraging.  He wanted to know more.  So I told him the story about Beverly the German Shepherd leading us back to my father's long lost childhood home site unseen.

Bob Walsh, wearing paper boy hat, returns to his childhood home where his journey with dogs started 70 years ago.  Wellesley, MA

He loved it, and having a dog himself, he said he would buy a book.  That won't be necessary.
I gave him the signed one that I had brought with me to the Garden.

After the game, which the Bruins won 3-2 in a shootout, we took a picture in the Flyers locker room.  Zach said he'd read the book on the flight back to Philly.  I'm sure losing himself in the pages took his mind off a tough loss.  And the next time I see him, we'll have more stuff to talk about.

Go Greek

Therapy Dog as puppy.  More on Him Below.

Why not go Greek?  We did for a casual Sunday lunch and a party broke out--sort of.  My dad, and fellow Follow the Dog Home author, Bob, needed some books.  Apparently his popularity is increasing around Ledyard, Connecticut and his supply had run out.  Samantha and I decided to meet him halfway between our homes in Wellesley, Massachusetts and Ledyard.  The plan was to sign a bunch of books, divvy them up, and return to our respective homes.  

Samantha and Bob Walsh signing books.  Ni Ni managing boxing effort.

In between bites of the biggest Greek salad on earth, we penned our names on the inside covers.  The pile of books on our table at the Golden Greek Restaurant in Webster, Mass attracted quite a bit of attention.  Other diners came over to talk, and everyone had a story to share.

Father Adam (left) and Dog Therapy Trainer Friend

Catholic Priest Father Adam, seen above, got the clergy discount.  That's free for the church challenged.  His friend was a dog therapy trainer, so he too got a similar discount--free!  Hey if you're saving souls and soothing the hearts of the sick, I don't have the heart to charge you any money.  My dad thinks everyone should pay, and he may be right, but a  lot of good comes out of extending goodwill too.  It's almost impossible to see in this picture, but the trainer is holding a small picture in his hand of his puppy.  The bigger version of the picture is at the top of the blog.

Our waitresses were dog people as well.  Jill had and lost a German Shepherd named Buddy.  He really did live up to the name, she says.  I told her I could relate having had, lost, and written about German Shepherds too.  Marsha has two dogs: a Dachschund named Charlie; the other a Beagle/Dachschund mix named Dolly.  Marsha considers her pets family.  So do we.

Waitresses Marsha Bates & Jill Klashka with authors Kevin, Samantha & Bob Walsh at Golden Greek Restaurant

Considering that we took over their restaurant, and because they took such good care of us, I just had to give them a book too.  And the young lady next table over who took our picture with my iPhone, yep another dog owner times two.

People often ask, where do you find all these cool stories?  I don't.  They find me.  Good stories are everywhere.  It's just a question of whether you're receptive to the creativity and curiosity that is constantly around you.  We found it in spades at Golden Greek Restaurant in Webster, and we found the food to be terrific too.

The Golden Greek Restaurant, Webster, Massachusetts

Skunk Scare!

It was a skunk encounter that I've lived to smell tell about.  Coming home late night/early morning after the late shift covering sports sometimes brings interesting wildlife into my wild life.  A couple of weeks ago it was a large coyote half a block from my house. This time it was a skunk that looked a lot like the one above.

I pulled into my driveway around 1:30 AM.  Across the street, by my neighbor's shed, I could see the outline of what I thought was a cat.  When I saw the white and black pattern it was unmistakeable--it was a skunk.  I watched for a moment and thought about heading over for a closer look and maybe a picture with my iPhone.  Then I thought better of it, realizing it could shower me with a foul musk that even a shower couldn't fix.  So I watched while standing outside my pickup truck.

Within about 15 seconds the skunk started scampering down the driveway, and in and my direction.  As I reached into my pocket for my phone, the muffled sound of James Taylor's "Don't Let Me be Lonely Tonight" playing on the phone's iPod speaker startled the little guy, and sent him back from where he came.  So I missed the picture.  Might be just as well.

Timing is everything in well... everything.  Usually about the first thing I do upon arrival at the homestead is let out Beverly, our German Shepherd.  I can only imagine if those two got tangled up.

Dee Dee, my Dad's first dog looking on.  Dee Dee was sprayed by a skunk on Cape Cod after digging under a porch.

Having a dog sprayed by a skunk is no party.  My dad's first dog, Dee Dee, was sprayed by a skunk some 65 years ago.  When Dad tells the story, you can almost smell it.  Take your average skunk roadkill, multiply ten times, and you're about halfway there.  I didn't have the heart, or nose for a messy cleanup like the one he wrote about in Follow the Dog Home.  With that in mind, when it was time to put Beverly out, I made sure she stayed in the backyard.

Annie's Going Home

Beverly (left) and Annie

Annie has had a good stay with us.  Tomorrow she'll go back to her home in Connecticut with Grandpops, fellow Follow the Dog Home author, Bob Walsh.  Grandpops opted out of New England's single digit temperatures, and a round of snow, for warmer temperatures and better scenery in Hawaii and Mexico.  That lucky dog.  Annie has been with us enough to make herself  at home, and she does.  Beverly shows little jealously, and more or less treats Annie like she's a sibling.  Neither dog knows they are subjects in our family book, Follow the Dog Home, but people are starting to take notice when I take the dogs out for walks and play.  See you later Annie.  Beverly awaits your next visit.