The Name We Choose For Our Dog, Reflects Who We Are.

I sat in his lap as he drove down the dirt driveway in the opposite direction of the only house I’d ever known. I watched from the window of his truck as the place I spent my first eight weeks of life faded out of view. It hit me, that I better imprint this guy’s face to my tiny little brain since he was my only connection back to the only place I’d ever known. So I jumped from the passenger seat into his lap.

As I sat under his stretched out arms that led to the steering wheel, I turned my head towards his face and stared in his eyes. I noted all the features of his face. The shape of his head. His incredibly gorgeous hair and his terrible attempt at a confident smile. I didn’t take my eyes off him until I was positive, I would not soon forget his face.

When the truck came to a stop, he looked down at me. Our eyes locked on each other as he spoke for the first time… “Dirt.”

I tilted my head slightly to the left deepening my stare as he removed his right hand from the steering wheel, pet my head, and continued…

“What do you think? Are you a Dirt?”

There it was again! The same sound! The sounds prior to it I hadn’t heard, but the last sound was certainly repetitive. So I started to shape a pattern, but before I could connect the pattern to his way of referring to me, I needed this apparent "puppynapper" to say it again.

“I think it fits? You just look like a Dirt?”

Yes! He said it again! That’s three times now! When he makes the sound “Dirt,” he is talking to me. That’s the action I will associate with the sound. From now on, when I hear him make the sound “Di-u-r-t,” I will look at him and assume he is speaking to me. I mean, if I want too of course. I am a Blue Heeler after all, and we don’t do anything we don’t feel like doing. So, with that, my name was Dirt.

It would take years before I understood why he chose to name me after the surface of the earth. I’m really not even sure he knew why. He would tell me stories sometimes about a bartender at his favorite restaurant in Charleston who went by Dirt because of his salt and pepper hair and he wanted me to remind him of the amazing fried chicken and oysters this place had. Other times, he would carry on about how he needed a dog with wild hair similar to his own. Although, between you and I, his hair really ain’t all that great, but don’t ever tell him I said that.

Now, all those stories may, in fact, be the reason he thought he was naming me “Dirt,” but it’s far from the truth. He named me “Dirt” because he viewed his personality as being relatable to the dirt we all build our lives on.

Dirt is hard. It's tough and it's weathered and shaped by millions of years of endless change and adaptation. It’s where most of us go when our life comes to an end, yet the same place where most life begins.

Okay, I know what all you biologists are saying, “water,” right? With that reasoning, he could have just as well named me “water.” But let’s be honest, “water” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Not to mention, dirt needs water in the form of rain, or dogs marking their territory, in order to produce vegetation. So, there’s that. Plus, I’m a dog. Not a dolphin.

The point is, I can sense things about him only a dog (a smart dog if you will), can sense. Much like dirt forms into a road after years of travel, I know all his patterns and all his routines. I know his emotions and I know his secrets. It would be safe to say, I know him better than he knows himself. I even know when he is sick well in advance of him showing signs of being ill. The reason he named me “Dirt” wasn’t because he thought I related to dirt, but because he related to dirt.

What he doesn’t realize, is I mirror everything he does. When he is feeling a certain emotion, typically I’m feeling it too. If he’s anxious, I’m anxious. If he’s tired, I’m usually tired. Hell, we typically even eat around the same time.

Humans think they name us according to traits and attributes we have, but what they don’t realize is, they name us according to either the way they view or the way they want to view, themselves. They might draw upon a memory or favorite hobby. It could be a reference to the location or the story of where they found us or bought us. Or maybe it could be a cute little reference to the job we were bred for.

Labradors for example, are bred to retrieve ducks, so it’s not uncommon for y’all to name Labs “Winchester” or “Drake.” Maybe you think of “Zeus” being the perfect name for a well-trained police dog because you’re a police officer. And like the Greek God and your German Shepherd, view yourselves as leaders. However, if you view yourself as having a lighthearted humorous personality, you might also name your little Chihuahua “Zeus,” in a halfhearted attempt to bring a smile to your face after a rough day.

At times, you humans tend to feel lost in the world. It’s our job to steer you back on track. If you’re having a tough day, we feel it. If you’re having a great day, maybe we taste it. When you’re feeling lost or question who you are, we typically hold the map as well as the answer. Often, the guide you’ve been searching for might just be sitting next to you. Watching with a wagging tail as you finish writing an article about us. Eagerly awaiting to hear his name, to remind you once more of who you truly are, and the reason we are known as “man’s best friend."