Reilly the cowspot dog is having a contest about how everyone got their names. I think it’s absolutely fascinating what makes humans give their 4legged friends the names they do.
I think Meeka has the best story, and Maizey’s story is one that is close to my heart, but Magnus’ story has a few twists of its own.
Magnus name came from hours of searching those baby naming websites, which in itself just doesnt seem that great of a story. But bear with me it gets more interesting.
When we knew we didn’t have long left with Meeka I started the search for our next 4legged family member. Daily I would troll through the depths of Petfinder and any rescue site I could find looking for that perfect pup.
As I found puppies that looked like good potential family members I started compiling a list of names I loved. This was at the time when Meeka really couldn’t get up very much anymore so we would lay in bed, and I would tell her the names.
I know it’s crazy, I know it didn’t mean anything to her really. But the sound of my voice and those hours we spent together seemed to soothe her, so I just talked to her about what was on my mind. What was on my mind were puppies and names.
That is a wonderful 4legged lesson of dogs: They don’t hold your grieving process against you, even if it looks sort of crazy. I think she knew I was just spending time with her, but to get through those hours I had to look to the future too, and our future turned out to be Magnus.
Well, thats only half the story. After we lost our Big Girl I kept up the search until I met Sally from Flawdogs Adoption and she felt Magnus was a perfect match for us. She said he was recovering quickly from his puppy mill days and that he was a “corker”.
"I don't have a name yet, but it's not Solomon, I'm too brave!"
I had always wanted to name my next boy Rottie Solomon. It is the big, robust name of a wise gentle and kind king. In ancient Hebrew it means peace. I still love that name. But even for a corker it seemed a bit much of a name for a Cav, especially a four pound barrel shaped boy with stumpy legs, as he turned out to be. Still I held onto that name.
When we left for the airport to fly to St. Louis to get him I was armed with the options that my little blenheim boy would come home named: Solomon, Felix (meaning happy), Flynn, Henry (meaning ruler of the household and which ultimately became the name of Kathleens’ Henry).
My top two choices were still Solomon and Magnus, meaning great.
Magnus The Great on the airplane
We met Gene from Flawdogs at the airport and I spent the day getting to know my little boy but it wasn’t until we were back on the airplane and half way home that he told me his name was Magnus. All day in the airport he proved himself intrepid. He wasn’t fazed by anything, he immediately started playing with toys, and meeting people, even the jostle of going through security didn’t faze him.
Then in that moment on the airplane when the flight attendant suggested I let him out to play and he toddled out of the carrier onto a potty pad and started chewing on my shoelace I knew- this dog is great. He is Magnus The Great. I picked him up and started telling him how great he was and he promptly fell asleep in my arms for the rest of the flight home.
He didn’t stay named Magnus The Great for long, as he soon started show me he was much more of a Magnus The Intrepid Destroyer. So that is why Magnus is more than just a name-it’s a story!
