name game

So I'm getting a puppy at the end of March, right around my birthday. The bitch who gave birth to my mom's dog (Charley the Wonder Poodle, the only dog in the world who can bake muffins and brew you a perfect espresso with a nice thick crema) just had a gorgeous litter a few weeks back, on Groundhog Day. Check out these little monsters:



Spare me the "why a poodle" question because I'm about to answer it anyway. Bred and trained properly, standard poodles can be fantastic, cuddly, laid-back, quiet, occasionally hilarious, well-mannered dogs. I think I'm going to get a boy dog, even though in this breed there isn't supposed to be much difference between the males* and females, because I've heard that they're slightly easier to train. Poodles also don't shed, which is awesome in my books, and they tend to not absolutely stink to high-fucking-hell when wet.**

So anyway, now I have to come up with a name. When I was a kid, my best friend Alia and I named every new creature*** "Freddy" or "Herman", which we thought was pretty funny. Despite excellent name suggestions such as "Action Item" and "Poodie P. Schnoodle"****, I am stumped by this process of coming up for a moniker for something that is going to be my little buddy for the next 12 years.

So yesterday I got this great idea that I'd name it Rorschach, because you know, a black dog is kind of like an ink blot test that I could use to conduct elaborate psychological testing on friends and acquaintances:

"I see two men fighting."
"I see a butterfly."
"I see a map of the world!"
"I see eyes. Eyes, and a clitoris."*****
"I'm hungry. Do you have any more of those almonds?"

OK, now it's your turn. Any suggestions? (I'm looking for names, not inkblot interpretations.)

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* neutered males, anyway

** some people mistake me for a dog lover, but I am not. I love certain dogs. Similarly, people who I love mistake me for a people lover, but I am not. I just love you.

*** caterpillar, bumble bee in a jar, ladybug, you name it - we weren't allowed real pets for the longest time

**** this latter suggestion from The Dude, who then complained that he was barred from participating in the process of choosing names for his daughters

***** this is actually what my good friend John claimed he saw in a Picasso painting we looked at together in Barcelona--of a field of wheat--and I laughed so hard and for so long that I nearly got kicked out of the museum - he was going on something like his 72nd hour without sleep after performing in Toronto and then flying overseas to meet me, both of which were conducted with much wine involved, and he was in deliriously rough shape, staggering around the Barrio Gotica with me blurting out wonderful, foul absurdities