Her Name

The backyard was an ocean of green to her. Her head bobbed above the same blades of grass that repeatedly tripped her white legs. Her body went limp as I rescued her from the thick green lawn. Her name, for now, was Phil.

Small and frail loking she weighed less than 4 lbs. The short story is she was ordered by someone from somebody else in Kentucky. She flew to Minneapolis from Kentucky on Northwest Airlines. A woman was there to pick her up from NWA. The woman, we'll call here Carulla, looked at her told the NWA employee, "That's not what I ordered", and walked off. Through a friend - coworker - sister connection we took Phil home.

We were sure that her real name wasn't Phil. No, that wasn't right.

"Bulldog?"
"No"
"Killer"
"No!"
"Ax Murderer?", said wryly.

"How about Tim?"
"No, I had a friend named Tim. Although he acted like dog sometimes it wouldn't be fair to put that kind of a burden on a dog."
"Judy?"
"No."
"You know I once had a co-worker named Judy. She was a great nice lady. At the time I meant it as a sincere complement. You know she was cool. I said, Judy, someday I'm going to get a dog. And I'm going to name my dog Judy. I meant it as a compliment. She never spoke to me again."
"I wonder why. Its still no. How about Etta?"
"No.....Sid? Sidney? Sid Vicious?"
"Yes. Sidney."

And her name was Sid.