We’ve now added a new moniker, Coco the Nut! There’s lots of reasons he deserves this title. My favorite is how he sits by the side of the couch staring at us as if he’s seeking the meaning of life.

At least that’s what it looked like to me. Now I think he was just imploring us to let him join us on the couch.

We have a rule in our house: dogs don’t get on the furniture. Have you seen what dogs roll in when they get outside?

But things change when we visit Shawn’s parents. Some rules are lifted for both kids and dogs when grandparents are around. That means when we’re with grandma, Coco gets on the couch.

He doesn’t miss a beat in it either. He’s completely in his element taking that spot on the couch. So that’s why I now call him Coco the Nut.

Now when he stares at me in the evening, I know what he’s after.

I just tell him, “Wait until we’re with your grandma again.”

However, there is a place where the name Max outranks them all, the world of dog names. Dogs named Max rank right up there in popularity with dogs named Buddy, Rusty, and Jake.

I met a dog named Max this weekend and talked with his person, Kristen, about his name. I didn’t realize it when I first saw him, but Max is a standard poodle.

Taking on a new dog is never easy and neither is naming them. I asked Kristen how she decided on the name, and she told me that he came with the name included.

Smart people. They adopted the dog and his name all in one fell swoop.

Max has lots of energy for his age (he’s 5) and Kristen was taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to let Max run a little. He was eager to meet a new friend and do a little posing.

He may not have a unique name, but Max is certainly unique in personality.

Kristen will soon be picking another name in her life. She’s one week out from the birth of her second child. The nice weather didn’t only allow an opportunity for Max to run, but for Kristen to soak in some Vitamin D and solitude in preparation for some eventful days ahead. My best to Kristen, Max, and their soon to be expanding family!

I saw Ava and knew immediately I wanted to talk about her name. So I approached her person and began a discussion.

Yes, you see, Ava is a dog. I have been hankering for some time to expand my name interviews beyond humans and since there were no extra terrestrials around (at least none that I knew of) canines seemed like the next most logical progression.

Most people take a lot of effort in naming their pets and as a result there’s usually some story in the telling. It’s that story I love because it takes this two-dimensional word, a name, and turns it into this vibrant and meaningful biography.

Before I go on, you need to meet Ava.

I asked her person, Michael, how he selected the name, Ava. Was it Eva Peron or Eva Gabor (Zha Zha’s sister) that gave him the inspiration?

It seems he found his naming muse in the most unlikeliest of places, a cigar.

He explained that he doesn’t smoke cigars that often, but when he did he liked the Avo brand. Beyond just the cigar, he really liked the name.

When he found her at the dog shelter four years ago, he knew he wanted to name her Ava, a more feminine version of Avo.

I was disappointed that Ava seemed unimpressed with our conversation about her name.

Ava is fond of making new friends and I was glad to consider myself one of them.

I’ve written about Jack before. I talked about how he’s half spaniel and half crazy. He’s fearless when it comes to most things, but completely terrified of thunderstorms.

He hates it when I talk about that. No one likes to have their faults flaunted in front of others.

To tell you about how Jack got his name, I first have to introduce you to the one who named him. Behold, the cutey-pie niece.

Yes, just like Jack, she’s quite a poser…and very photogenic. Jack doesn’t have blue fingernails though. Maybe we should work on that.

She’s the brilliant mind behind the name Jack. She gave it to him when she was about 6 years old. Jack was thought to be about 2. Let’s see, in doggy years that made him….older than her! I asked her why she picked the name Jack and the conversation went something like this:

Marly: So, tell me, what made you pick the name Jack?
Cutey-pie Niece: I dunno, I guess I liked it.
Marly: Did you like that J is one of the most popular first letters for names in the Western world which is so interesting because J only became a recognized separate letter in the 17th century?
Cutey-pie Niece: I was 6!
Marly: Oh yeah. You probably just liked the sound of it.

And then the cutey-pie niece and I played photography wars, taking pics of each other with our cameras.

I wonder where I can buy some blue fingernail polish.

So that’s the story behind Jack’s name. I like the name. It has a lot of appropriate uses. We can say, “Get back, Jack.”

Or Jack the quack!

When he sits in front of us, he will tilt his head to look back. He’s trying to look adorable so we’ll pet him. It usually works. I think I’ll call this a Jack Attack!

Which makes Mr. Coco feel so sad and left out.

In the end, Jack is a perfect name given by the perfect cutey-pie niece for a perfect half-spaniel, half-crazy dog.

I do.

But then again, I have a thing for names.

We named our little puppy Coco.

People always ask me why an all-white dog is named after dark, chocolaty cocoa.

“It’s short for Coconut. We leave the “nut” part off because we don’t want him to feel bad.” And it’s such a hassle to pronounce a name with three syllables. Two is much better.

But the “nut” is truest part of his name.

He is such a nut.

I love this ragdoll look that he gets, but it’s usually a sign that a trip to the groomer is right around the corner.

Because although the look is cute, he’s starting to stink.

Now in addition to being our little nut, he’s also our little stinker.

I whispered into the phone, “Honey, grab the camera and come out to the backyard. Quick!”

He was equally impressed with my find and he took picture after picture. It was just a common garter snake, but they’re not quite so common here anymore. I’ve read that’s a result of pesticides.

People are also afraid of snakes so they kill them. It’s hard to imagine killing this little guy. For a snake, he’s awfully cute. Besides, although snakes are mostly meat eaters, this little guy wasn’t interested in eating us.

Yes, they have a red, forked tongue which can make them look sort of sinister, but they’re not. They use their tongue to smell.

I think he was trying to figure out if we were friend or foe. Garter snakes are more into eating insects and small rodents which is why I think they’re particularly good critters to have around. Hmm, that ant on his nose doesn’t seem too worried. “Please stay, little snake,” I said. I don’ think he heard me. Snakes don’t have external ears, but it is thought they can feel vibrations of sound.

This guy was content to pose for us for quite awhile. The neighbor boy, curious at seeing two adults crouched down over the grass, came running into our backyard. He yelled out, “Hey, what are you looking at?” When I responded that we were looking at a snake, he stopped dead in his tracks and then hightailed it out of there! Poor snake. So misunderstood!

It came time to leave this guy to forage for his lunch. After looking at these pics, we decided it was time to sharpen our lawn mower blade.

Yes, our work is never done, but it’s good to take time to enjoy the splendors in the grass!

The deck was a long time in coming and we were grateful to be at a point where we could finally enjoy it. But I don’t think anyone is enjoying it as much as Coco.

Perched up near the gateway to the yard, he finally feels as tall as he thinks he is.

From this vantage point he can peruse the yard and spot any critters that need to be chased.

Or at least think about it…

Mostly, King Coco seems to prefer some sort of Jedi mind manipulation, signaling squirrels to beware. At least that’s what I imagine he’s doing because he does a lot more looking and ear twisting  than actual chasing.

We love the new deck and we know it will bring many benefits, some expected and some yet to be determined. One bonus we hadn’t anticipated was that our deck would become the throne for King Coco!

This is Jack. We think he is some type of spaniel mix.

He has boundless energy.

My sister dubbed him a love-sponge. As much loving as you’re willing to dish out, he’s happy to soak up. And look at that picture — he’s clearly not ashamed to beg for more.

I like to describe him as half spaniel and half crazy. Truth is, it took me awhile to warm up to him because he can be such a pain. He doesn’t look like he would be a PITA (Pain in the ass), does he? Don’t let his hypnotic love-gaze fool you. He is.

The first round of evidence against him is that Jack is an escape artist…of an extreme variety. We think that might be how he ended up in the dog shelter in the first place. We can’t let him in the backyard without a leash because he can jump our 4-foot fence…like a gazelle. We’ve lost count of the number of times he’s found ways to dash through doors, gates, or whatever. And once he’s out, there’s no catching him, although we run frantically after him. He’s trained us quite well and as a result, we haven’t had an escape in over a year.

He’s also got a death wish. He once ate an entire plate full of my best vegan chocolate-covered peanut butter balls. That particular death-wish was two-fold because he had to deal with my fury (do you know how much work it is to make peanut butter balls?) and chocolate can be a fatal food for dogs. Not to worry. I might have been miffed, but I would never hurt him (do you think he knew that?). And it was a miserable night for us all but Jack got all of that chocolate out of his system in one form or another (if you catch the smelly drift).

He is a hassle, that Jack. But there is something charming about him. He is for sure the first dog that I felt would protect me. That’s because most of the time he’s fearless. He’s brave. He’s even regal!

Except when it comes to thunderstorms. I’ve actually seen him quivering with fear at the sound of a storm in the distance. Oftentimes we won’t even know what he’s upset about because the storm is so far off that we can’t hear it. But his dog-ears can.

And we’re in the midst of thunderstorm season right now. In fact, one crawled through last night. I’ve usually been the one who had to get up early in the morning to head into a highly stressful job. As a result I wasn’t always the most patient person when Jack would come to my side of the bed wimpering in the night. So when Jack came to my bedside last night, I did my usual ignoring him bit.

I’ve heard that’s what you’re supposed to do. Don’t coddle them because you’ll only intensify their reaction. But then it dawned on me – hey, I quit that ridiculously stressful job and I don’t have a day full of meetings tomorrow. I can take the time to help Jack through this tonight. And I did. I stroked the back of his head; scratched his ears. And it helped. He actually ended up forgoing his cushy bed so he could sleep right next to me. Ahh, that felt so good! From time to time he would sit up so I could reassure him some more. And then that was it. The storm was over and he eventually felt secure enough to go back to bed.

He still goes spazzo and barks like a madman at the mailman…or the rabbits…or UPS truck. What is with that UPS truck? The sound of it drives him bonkers! But even with all that craziness, he has nuzzled his way into my heart and now Jack and I are best buds.

People told me I needed to get another dog right away. I didn’t. In fact, I waited almost a year. That’s when I got Coco.

He’s a Westie and although I thought he was adorable, we didn’t bond right away. I went through the motions; fed him, played with him, walked him, etc. But in the end, Coco was not Rusty.

But then it happened. I think it started when he began bringing me a little toy in the morning. He wanted me to throw it so he could go chase it and bring it back. That is just too darn cute!

We don’t do the traditional Westie grooming; we have him shaved in the summer. But I like it when he gets this moppy kind of look.

And he likes listening to me play guitar.

The next thing you know, I’m head over heels.

That being said, you’ll understand how upset we were when he ran away recently. We let him out in the back yard to do his thing, but we didn’t realize the front gate was open. By the time my husband went back 10 minutes later, Coco was nowhere to be found. It was dark, cold, and he’s a little guy. Oh, and did I mention he doesn’t like to come when he’s called…especially when he’s wondering around free?

We took off in separate cars combing the neighborhood, calling his name. It’s December here in Missouri and it was a cold night. I wondered how much longer we could go on looking for him and I wondered how he would make it on his own over night. The situation was bleak.

But then it happened. My daughter caught a glimpse of something moving from the corner of her eye. Could we get our hopes up? Is it possible it could be him? She saw the movement again. “I think it’s him, mom!” she exclaimed. I certainly hoped she was right. And she was. She opened the door and called his name, and he came running. He was covered in burrs, but we had him back. I think he enjoyed being a fugitive for an hour.

If you’re wondering about the name, Coco is short for Coconut. We call him Coco. We also call him Dogba because he is like our own little Roomba, foraging the floor for any tidbits that might have fallen to the ground. Every now and then, I like to throw the “nut” part of his name in too. Coco the Nut (like Jabba the Hutt) or Coconutty; whatever comes to mind. Now he gets a new title. Just as Gandalf the Grey goes on a journey and comes back as Gandalf the White, Coco the Nut has returned as Coco the Fugitive.