I’d like to introduce you to the newest intern in the Doctor Jackson household (not that kind of intern, gutter brain). Last night we adopted a 7 week old bundle of joy. She’s gorgeous, and that’s not just the proud Papa talking. She’s part Lab, part Golden Retriever.
The kids pounced on me before I even got out of the car. Three voices in perfect harmony “Can we have a puppy, Daddy? Momma says it’s OK with her if it’s OK with you! The lady across the street is giving them away FREE! Can we, Daddy? Can we, please?” I had a choice: 1) be a hero to my chidren and ever after loom as a giant in their eyes, or 2) crush their little hopes and dreams while ripping each heart out and stomping it into the asphalt. I chose option 1. My decision was not, however, entirely altruistic. It gets lonely in the doghouse at night, and I could use some company.
The dog came to us with the name ‘Daisy’. This would never do. Daisy happens to be my grandmother’s name and she happens to live next door. I, for one, will not be heard late at night screaming for all the neighbors to hear “Shut up, Daisy, you mangy mutt!”. I don’t think Grandma would see the honor in it. So, the search for the perfect name began. The dog is black, with white markings. What to name a black and white dog? My first suggestion, ‘Logic’, was immediately shot down. I mean, what’s more black and white than logic? Oh, well. My next thought was ‘David Bea’, but I didn’t think the family would get the connection. It took long enough to explain the concept of logic, I wasn’t about to try to explain David. After other suggestions were discarded (“I don’t think the Principal of your school will appreciate our dog being named after her daughter” or “You know, she just doesn’t look like a Lassie”) we arrived at the right answer.
Fellow Dopers, I am pleased to introduce…Oreo. May she live long and not piddle on my furniture.