Every Greyhound on the track of last resort, Caliente, had the same name from their handlers. When they “retired” instead of being shot in the head they came to a place that rehabilitated them and found the right people to adopt for individuals or families.
In the meantime we took them out, fed them and gave them their medication, mostly for low thyroid. And we gave them temporary names on a theme, before their forever home would change it.
They always had the same health certificates to cross the Mexican border to the US, and no name.
Beethoven, Mozart, Strauss,
Julia, Simka, Alex G, Iron Chef
Tyler, GZ, Emeril,
Emily (Dickinson), Beatrix Potter, Jane Austen
Edison, Marconi, Galileo,
Shakespeare, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu,
Callas, Horne, Sills (opera)
Madonna, Cher, Lady Gaga
Trisha, Garth, Johnny Cash
CSNY, PPM, Dylan and Baez
James Taylor, Dave Mason, Van Morrison,
Harry Chapin, Jackson Browne, Simon & Garfunkel
Prairie (for PPL), Emmylou, Jimmy Buffet
Marty Robbins, Burl Ives, Juni Fisher
Bucky (Buckminster Fuller), he asked me to call him Bucky, Leonardo Da Vinci, Eddy (Thomas Alva Edison)
Donatello, Michelangelo, Fra Angelico,
Secretariat, Man o’ War, Seabiscuit….
I made lists of a correlated bunch every week, these are only samples I thought of, just now, from many years later. This is a mind burst that reminds me of the needs of these beautiful creatures, Yes, I assigned the naming task to myself. I wanted them to have at least a temporary name before they were healthy and adopted. That’s just who I am. Now may I be excused to take out my dog? She’s slowing down at near 14 and we have to see the vet and consider options at some point.
Hating to think of her demise, I ran into a gentleman yesterday who opened a door for us and said she was the nicest dog around. Even at her age she teaches young ones and as an old lady, puts them in their place with just a stare. Just like my father did with my high school dates! She would never growl or bark consistently (only when the window washers hit their boots coming down to our windows, then I take her out and say they’re our friends and here to help us) or bite.
Naming these sad Greyhounds is like re-naming Zoe. Her adoptive name was unacceptable. She was sick and then had hip problems. I did research on names, came up with twenty, narrowed it to five. After she jumped out of the box and sniffed the wind and was enamored being in the car on my lap we named her Zoe, Greek for life, and I hope I helped thousands of rescued Greyhounds before I ever met this sweet girl.
We never adopted one of these couch potatoes but may think of it if I’ve a good fenced dog park around, as I love to see them as they run, on their own, for joy. Cheers in dog-dom, Dee