What's In A Name

Vista's tag came in the mail earlier this week, so now she's all outfitted.  I still need to get over to the courthouse and get her registered in the county, but at least she won't be mistaken for anyone but herself if she wanders off.

Unless she pulls out of her collar.  Which I don't want to think about.

I spent three days with this dog after she first entered my life, terrified to give her a name.  What if she belonged to someone else?  What if the landlord put his foot down and refused to let me keep her?  So for three days, I brainstormed names for her, all the while refusing to call her anything but Pup.  Whatever her name was going to be, however, I knew one thing: if she stayed with me, then years down the road I wanted to be able to hear her name and remember exactly where she came from.  Emily and I discussed "Poca," short for Pocahontas, but I thought it sounded too much like "Polka."  We considered "Pearl," in honor of Pearl Buck, whose birthplace is Emily's assignment.  I came close to settling on "Brier," for the Greenbrier River.

But in the end, nothing suited her like Vista.  It recalls our program, of course, but more than that it makes me think of the gorgeous views we see everyday.  So Vista is was, and Vista she is.  It's come to fit her very, very well.