Golden rules for naming a pet

BY NICK BARNETT

Some pet names just won't work. I read a news story once about a police callout in the US caused by a man calling out to his cat - which he'd named "Help".

In the same Dumb Names category, I guess, you'd have to put Fire, Stop, Rape, and Die.

Blogger Bridget Saunders told the funny story of a mother who rashly allowed her little son to choose a name of their new puppy. He chose "Baby Jesus". Imagine standing on your porch and calling out "Baby Jesus, time for dinner". It might be some time before your neighbours resume eye contact with you.

So I guess rule No 1 in naming your pet is to avoid anything that would make you feel stupid, or get you arrested, when calling it out in public.

Rule No 2 would have to be, avoid a name that matches a friend's or relative's. Aunt Milly may feel hurt that your new guinea pig is her namesake, and your boss might not be amused to find that your bulldog shares his name. People aren't necessarily flattered by the connection, is what I'm saying.

Beyond those two rules, almost anything goes. Unless you can think of some other rules?

My late lamented cat Pierre got his name because he looked really, really foreign. He needed a foreign name, and though he was a Russian blue, he was too svelte and high-cheekboned for any of those muscly Russian-henchman names like Igor, Ivan or Oleg. So he got a French name instead. A dead-glamorous name, too, until I told a French friend of mine about it and waited while he split his sides at the pathetic piss-elegance of calling a cat the equivalent of "Pete".

My current cat came from the SPCA. He was a stray, a gentle giant with a tiny voice. The SPCA staff named him "Boris", another of those square Russian names. We thought he was too soft to be henchcat so we wrestled with new possibilities.

He's a tabby, and something about tabbies makes them suit any name starting with an M. Maybe it's the "M", or arguably "W", on their foreheads. Anyway, we went through the Montys and Montgomerys and Miltons and settled on Merrick - a character from an Ann Rice novel that my partner had read recently.

You can often fall back on what the pet looks like. Years ago we had a round, copper-coloured guinea pig: I called him Kettle.

Our first dog's name came about in a different way. She's a dachshund, and for a while we thought about giving her a German-type name. Elsa, Helga and Freya were all possibilities - but they all seemed more fitting to concentration camp guards.

When we got the puppy home, something about her said "Phoebe". The name just works. She learned it on the first day we started using it, which I reckon is a sign it's just right for her.

Likewise our second dog, who moved in exactly a week ago. He's another dachshund, but wire-haired and whiskery where Phoebe is all flowing locks. The name "Connor" just seemed to emerge from the air and settle on him with a perfect fit. So Connor he is.

Pet names go through fads, just as baby names do. I've met a fair few Tysons and Marleys lately among dogs. And two acquaintances of mine have a pet named Phoebe, so obviously we're not blazing a trail.

Oddest name I've heard lately: "Chaos" for a dog. Sounds a bit heavy for my tastes, though maybe it's just an accurate description of that particular dog's habits.

What are your pets called, and how did you choose the names? Have you heard any truly awful or silly names for pets?

Picture: Luis Miguel Bugallo Sanchez