When I named my* dog Max, I did not realize that I was giving him one of the most common dog names in America. I just thought Max was a good name, a thought apparently shared by 97.23% of the other dog owners in the country. The place where he goes for boarding refers to him as “Max the corgi” to distinguish him from all the other, lesser, Maxes that they have there.
Max’s original name, his baby puppy name, was Blue. Which is a perfectly good name, and highly appropriate since he is a blue merle in terms of coloring. Yet, Blue simply was not meant to be his name—while an accurate physical descriptor, it’s no more his rightful name than “Fox Ears” or “Raccoon Eyes” or “So Beautiful It Hurts My Soul To Look at Him” (SBIHMSTLAH). Blue is the name of a long-eared, sorrowful-eyed, slightly sleepy kind of dog that sleeps on porches and meanders around fields and is typically found in the southern states. Max is not that dog. He is a big-hearted, short-legged, Napoleonic kind of dog. He is regal and ridiculous in equal measure—a lover of blankets and napping and his people.
I am not sure why I gravitated towards the name Max, other than the universe apparently shoving all dog owners in that direction for the last decade or so. Thinking back, I can come up with only two people associations that I have with the name. One was a snobby rich boy in fifth grade who had good hair and who’d apparently briefly had a thing with a friend of mine before I met her (don’t ask me what “a thing” means for a fifth grader, I didn’t even know at the time). The other was, of course, Lorelei’s fiance on Gilmore Girls, who was completely charming and delightful and to this day I wish that he and Lorelei had gotten married and had a lot of beautiful, brunette children. Luke is fine, but he is no Max (don’t try to fight me on this one, you won’t win).
In conclusion (sort of): Max is totally fine human name, but somehow a much superior dog name. And Max is the best Max that there ever was, human, dog or otherwise.
Writing notes: It’s been going slow. Two steps forward, two steps back.
Reading notes: I read The Sun is Also a Star and I loved it so very much, and it was only through very, very strict self-control and possibly some inner arm pinching that I didn’t full-on cry on the train as I finished reading it. I’m now reading Eleanor by Jason Gurley which I’m enjoying so far.
*Husband would say “our” dog. But this is my blog so you get my version of it here.