THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, June 30, 1996 TAG: 9606270043
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MARGO M. MATEAS, SPECIAL TO REAL LIFE
LENGTH: 61 lines
MOVE OVER, Rover.
And you, too, Brutus the Great Dane, and you prissy poodles named Fifi and cats who answer to Tabby.
When it comes to our pets, we've unleashed a new generation of names. When's the last time a bulldog named Spike took a bite out of you?
There's a springer spaniel in Chesapeake called Forrest Grunt. Thanks to the techno-world, there are two cats walking around named Byte and Digital.
Annette Winterlee, a receptionist at Alliance Animal Clinic in Suffolk, has a Great Dane not named Brutus, but Rosington, after Lynyrd Skynyrd guitarist Gary Rosington.
Cat names such as Puff, Snowflake and Midnight are no longer the cat's meow. Many owners are showing a mystical reverence for their ``etherially superior felines.'' Now we have Zeus, Isis, Hermes, Tiberius.
Dr. Paul Dell, a Norfolk psychologist, once named a cat Heideger, after the German philosopher.
Where have all the Spots and Tabbys gone?
What we name our pets says more about us than them, according to Dr. Eleanora Woloy, a Virginia Beach psychiatrist and Jungian analyst, who wrote the book ``The Symbol of the Dog in the Human Psyche.''
For centuries, naming has been a source of the sacred. In tribal societies, young warriors receive names, such as Kills Two Deers, in honor of an important hunt.
Until recently, we named our pets the same way. We honored our backyard warriors with appellations such as Mouser, or Squirrel. Stephanie Brockwell of Portsmouth calls her silver-haired terrier Carleigh, after Carly Simon's song ``You're So Vain,'' because the pup kept looking at herself in the mirror.
Woloy says most people name their pets as an extension of themselves. We project a quality or something we want onto the dog or cat, and in that way make it part of our world.
We want more money, so we name our dog Sterling. Our favorite TV show is ``X-Files,'' so we name our dog after Scully or Mulder.
Two avid Virginia Beach ballroom dancers named their collies Tango and Cha Cha. Somewhere out there are a catfish named Walter, a piranha named Hungry and an overgrown cichlid known as Big Daddy.
My mother's Shitzu, Swamp Cricket, earned her title by being brown and bouncy.
One couple who honeymooned in Canada came home to name their dog Okeebye, because that's how someone bid them adieu. Donna Hanberry of Chesapeake named her English bulldog Nags Head Naggy, in honor of the good times she had growing up there. She also has a cat named Malibu and a chocolate Lab named Hershey.
However, what we name our pets may not be as important as how we name them. ``The name we carry is a very special essence,'' Woloy says, and shouldn't be treated lightly.
Whatever creative method we employ in trying to derive just the right name, Woloy suggests putting time and thought into the process:
``Spend some time with your pet and see what fits him. Does he appear noble? If so, give him a name befitting his strength. If she's funny, give her a whimsical name. Don't be in a hurry to name your new friend. Let him or her get to know you, and show you their personality. Then make a decision.''
Who knows? You could end up calling him Rover. MEMO: Margo Mateas is a freelance writer living in Suffolk. by CNB