I noticed a poster the other day for a missing dog, which ‘answers to the name Dog’. It set me thinking what a simpler world it would be if everything stuck to its generic name. My name would be ‘Man’, I would live on ‘Street’ in the pleasant town of ‘Town’, and write blog posts titled ‘Blog post’, dine on my favourite food, good old ‘Food’, and refresh myself with my favourite beer, which would be ‘Beer’. You get the idea. Ah, but there would be a problem, you tell me. What about all the other people called ‘Man’ who live in ‘House’ in ‘Street’ street in ‘Town’ town? Don’t embarrass yourself. I never said I wanted to move into some other random bloke’s house or start drinking his beer. He may wish to move into my house and steal my beer, or find himself powerless not to in his confusion, but that’s what the good Lord invented baseball bats for. As for missing ‘Dog’ (‘So I’m Dog, but that dog over there is not me but, no wait it is me…’) he was probably too dim-witted for my beautiful scheme, and frankly, I never said we wouldn’t shed a few simpletons, human or canine along the way. But such is the price of progress.
3 comments:
I had a friend who's dog was called John.
My baby's name is Baby, which is a bit confusing now that she's 7. I wanted to call her Born Dancin' (now that's class) after a baby in a Donald Barthelme story. But Woman said no way.
John is good. Our cat lodgers over the years have answered to Claire, Paul, Hilary, Sophie and Toby.
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