Okay, yes, I did name a dog after Halloween since she joined us the week before that holiday, but ain’t no amount of money going to make me name a dog Christmas. Just isn’t gonna happen… Plus, all the names I could contrive in Gaelic or Mandarin were names I could pretty much guarantee would be mispronounced for the remainder of the dog’s life. Bad enough of ten years explaining the “mh” is actually a “veh” sound… so at the last minute before heading to the pound to pick up the inmate, I was perusing Spanish boys’ names and came across Baltazar. Seemed appropriate being the traditional wise-men-with-gifts, and given that yesterday was Twelfth Night anyway, figured I’d go with it.
Besides, a lifetime of saying, “No, not Casper as in the ghost, Casper as in the king,” was almost as annoying as the potential for a dog named Melchior to be called “Mel” for short, which is just… so not. Be that as it may,
Balto, lying on the rug (and not on his bed, but at least he does recognize the bed as his even if we’ve evicted Odetta twice and Sachiko once twice three times now from it).
With Sachiko, onlooking.
rest of the uploads over at flickr
Tagged: horde of hyenas