The outlaws rode in last night to see the new secret lair for the first time, which really meant just one thing: I had to clean. But, now the lair is devoid of random crowns and doubloons lying about, so that's good. It was also the first time they met our getaway dog, Scout. We were discussing how good she'd become at commands like "sit" and "tap on the glass if the fuzz arrives." At which point the partner-in-crime mentioned that he's surprised she responds to anything at all given the quantity of names I use to address her.
Here's my bag: I get bored with names. I mean, think of how often you use a person's (or a getaway dog's) name in a day. Now imagine you said it that same way Every. Single. Time. No, no, go ahead, hit that snooze button, I'll wait.
There's a reason why we have names like Peg, Matt, Tom, Bob, Bobby, Bobbaroonie, etc. Regular names are booooooooooooooring. You think no one ever referred to the great Robert Frost as Bobby Frost when he was a kid? Yeah, you know they did. Now, to be fair, I've taken Scout's nicknamery a little to the extreme.
As soon as we apprehended Scout I began to think of aliases for her. As any good getaway dog knows, everyone needs to get their stories straight. We started with the basics - The Scout Master, Scouty Pippen, The Scout of Monte Cristo, Scoutarella, and Scoutaruby Tuesday. Then the P-i-C started calling her Scouty Two Times. For me this naturally evolved into Two Tone (much like Michael Jackson, she's black and white), which devolved into Chucho, which led to Chuchie, which has now opened the door for a host of punny nicknames.
As it stands, she is now Chuch, Chuchies, Scouty Chuchenegger, Prime Minister Vladimir Chuchkin, Chuch's Chicken, The Chucharuch, and so on. I kind of invent new ones every day, and really her greatest talent is responding to all of them. Although, if you have a treat, I'm pretty sure she would respond to Barbara.
So see, Phriday phun with words day. Happy Phriday!