It's getting harder to get good, original pictures of them every day. My goal is to get them together while they are still. I've never used my camera on my phone much so am trying to get better at that.
I think it might be a good time to explain their names. Oates is named after the lesser-heralded half of the pop music duo Hall & Oates. Anyone who knows me knows how much I enjoy music. The story goes that I was having some sort of inane music argument with a woman I was briefly dating. I think she keep going on about Radiohead, who were reaching peak popularity at the time. The contrarian side of me came out, and I insisted to her that Hall & Oates had more good songs than Radiohead. At the time, she was aware of my plan to get two dogs, so I think she sarcastically suggested I name them Hall & Oates.
At least that's the story as it's been told. I'm not even sure it was inspired by her suggestion anymore. I do know I liked the idea of Oates as a name for my Pug. I didn't realize how it would be something I'd have to explain for over a dozen years. It seems to fit him.
Naming the other dog "Hall" seemed too cute and too much. Also not a name a dog can hear when called, so I am often asked this but it was never under consideration. Instead, I liked the idea of another underdog from the 80s pop culture of my childhood. A dog duo named after two underdogs from two pop culture duos.
So when I got my Shiba, he was named Willis, after the older brother from the television show Different Strokes. But he soon went by "Willie", as that was easier to hear as a called-out name and seemed to fit his personality better. Like the animated penguin Chilly Willy, another beloved character from my youth.
It's an odd thing, names for your dog. I probably put way too much thought in it, in being clever or funny and less thought about what was practical.
I was in many ways a different person then. I dressed differently, I probably did a lot of things differently than I do now. I made decisions governed by a different set of motivations, I am sure. I went to see a friend's band last week and bumped into a friend I hand't seen since high school. It was really great, and after only a minute of seeing me he said, "you're really different than high school". He didn't mean different-looking (I often hear that I look the same), he just meant...different. I wouldn't have minded if he had felt like explaining this impression, but I liked not knowing how I was different exactly, just knowing that I was.
Willie and Oates. They know their names by now. Sometimes, Oates is so eager for attention he'll come running even if I call for Willie (who will often ignore my calling him if he feels like it).
I am not sure they know my name, which makes me a little sad. My Siberian Husky from childhood knew my name so well that my father and stepmother had to avoid saying it aloud when I was in college, or else he would run to the window by the front door and stare for hours, waiting for me.
I have no doubt my dogs love me just as much, but we've lived as a unit, with only the occasional girlfriend over the years, but not the same voice saying my name aloud over their lifetime to reinforce it in their minds. I don't think they know it, but perhaps that doesn't matter.
My dog walker insists Willie can smell me from around a corner without even seeing me. He has walked them and seen Willie suddenly pull urgently, only to turn a corner and see me coming down the block. Maybe someone knowing your scent is better than remembering your name.
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