Choosing the right name

This is my new dog. His name is Windfall's Party Favor. He's an 11 month old Whippet that has been called "Popper". Generally, a call name sticks, but this time I have a problem. I already have a dog named "Poppy". She has been "Poppy" three years longer than he has been "Popper", therefore he will be given a new moniker.

I'm going to call the Whippet..."Perry". I know it's an odd name for a dog, but allow me to tell you a story and my reason will be revealed....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long, long time ago, there was a little girl that moved with her family to a tropical island, far, far away.


Moving can be exciting, but being the "new kid" at school can come with its own set of challenges, especially to a 7th grader.

 On the first day at her new school, she was asked to stand up, introduce herself, tell the class a little about herself and where she had lived prior to her arrival on the island.
She always hated this part of "first day". It happened every time she arrived after the school year had begun, weeks, and in this case, months earlier, when everyone in class already knew each other. Her classmates would all turn in their chairs to stare, every eye directed towards her...judging, weighing and finding her wanting.
"Stop it!" she scolded herself, "Don't let your imagination make you see monsters where they don't exist."


She steeled her nerves, forced the butterflies to quit beating their wings against the inside of her stomach and rose from her chair. She took a surreptitious glance around the classroom and felt her heart plummet by what she saw. In order to keep her courage up, she turned her full attention back to the teacher and then, imagining that she was wearing large, leather horse blinders, blocked out everyone on either side of her, allowing only the teacher's image, standing behind the podium at the front of the class to fill her vision.


With a voice that belied her nervousness, she spoke clearly for all to hear, "Hello, my name is Diana and I moved here from...."


Before she could continue, a voice interrupted from the back of the room, drawling, "Hey girl, why don' ya stands up so's we kin all sees ya?"


Instantly, she felt her face begin to burn, knowing that everyone would see the bright scarlet color rushing up her neck and flooding her cheeks. Flushing hotter still, as the other children joined in to laugh at her shame.
What she had realized during the quick survey of her classmates and now had been brought to everyone's attention by a single question, was how tiny she was in stature compared to the rest of the 7th graders.

"Why does this always happen to me? I must not cry! I will not!" she thought angrily. It was a struggle to control her emotions and not let the self-hatred consume her, as once again she was the brunt of ridicule at being the smallest child in the classroom. She was often mistaken for a 4th grader, even by the teachers, which she found utterly humiliating.
She stood there, biting her lower lip and looking down at her shoes, wishing fervently that she could shrink enough to be able to crawl into the paper sack that held her lunch, while time seemed to stand still.


The peels of laughter filled her ears, seeming to go on forever, but in reality less than a minute had passed, when something unexpected happened. The teacher began to make shushing sounds and at the same instant, a tall, slender boy sitting at the desk next to Diana's suddenly stood up, turned towards the back of the room and said loudly, "Don't listen to him, Diana. That's Mickey, the class idiot. He has the IQ of an amoeba and this is his 2nd time in 7th grade."


That caused another burst of laughter from the class as Mickey spluttered in indignation, "I ain't an idiot! An so what... at least I'll git a driver's license 'fore you, Bing-ham-hock."


As Mickey's last word left his lips, the teacher slammed a heavy yardstick down on her desk, making a loud cracking sound, startling everyone into silence.
With a voice that carries as only a teacher's can, she commanded, "That is enough! One more outburst and some of you will be taking a trip to the Principal's office."

Mouths snapped shut as the threat sunk home. No one dared to even breath for fear of being sent to the dreaded Mrs. "Give You Heck" Peck. Everyone knew that the school principal had signed permission slips from all parents giving her authority to discipline their offspring, if the need arose. No amount of explaining on the part of the student would remove the guilty sentence, as the act of being sent to her office was all the condemnation required for punishment to be rendered.


The punishment came in the form of a Ping-Pong paddle with several holes drilled in it, thus preventing wind drag slowing its speed on descent. The offender would hear the wind whistling through those holes just prior to the violent impact with their tender bottom. No amount of clothing would prevent the wasp-like sting of pain her weapon of choice inflicted.


The teacher's voice broke the silence, though the scent of fear still hung palpable in the air...."Perry Bingham, please take your seat and now, Diana, would you please continue."


The boy next to Diana, took his seat, looked over at her and gave her a wink. She couldn't help herself; she grinned, and was able to finish what she had begun, "Before moving here, I lived in Kuwait." Diana saw the teacher nod, indicating that she should continue, so she explained, "That's a desert land in the Middle East, next to Saudi Arabia and along the Persian Gulf."


That made classmates raise their hands to ask, "Did you ride camels?", "Does it ever rain?", "How hot is it there?", "Did you have to wear a veil across your face?" and "Are there any trees or is everything made out of sand?"


The teacher allowed her to answer the questions and as she told about her life in a place far different from the rain forest she now lived in, the words flowed out of her. She held the class rapt, making them see, smell, and live her experiences. Later, some would swear that they could taste the Booza, the Arabic ice cream that Diana loved, when she described its silky smoothness as it slid icily down her throat, cooling her after an extremely hot, dry day spent shopping at the Souk.


Even Mike listened to her without any snide comments, and she overheard him say, "Cool!" when she told them how camels liked to spit on strangers if they were unlucky enough to approach too closely.


Time passed and before they knew it, the lunch bell rang, breaking the mesmerizing effect she had held over them. Everyone clapped as she concluded her tale.


Diana's champion turned towards her and said, "Want to eat lunch with me and my friends?" She nodded and followed him out of the classroom. He waited just outside the door, enabling her to walk beside him, before continuing out to the lunch tables.


As they walked along, he gazed down at her. An impish grin spread across his large mouth, exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth. With one hand, he brushed back an unruly lock of his almost white-blonde hair, then introduced himself "My name is Perry, by the way. Hey, you tell a really great story!"


Looking up at his face, she gazed into his eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate that shone with warmth, intelligence, and wit. She decided that he had very nice eyes, indeed, and her own stormy-blue eyes filled with gratitude, as she smiled back at him.

She replied, sincerity filling her voice, "Nice to meet you, Perry...and thanks for today! You are very gallant."


“Now there’s a word!” and picturing himself as Lancelot, his suit of armor shining in the sunlight, Perry laughed and then her laughter merged with his.


They remained friends until Diana's family moved again to another far away land. She never saw Perry again, but she would remember his crazy boy antics, done just to make her giggle and how he had told her that he loved to hear her laugh and never wanted to see her cry.

 ...and of all the past and future "First Days", that one will always remain special to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Perry" the hero that my mind has conjured from the distant fog of time, was a boy that was kind, sweet and funny. I haven't thought about him in probably 40 years....until my ride home from California this week.

 The Whippet was the catalyst in shattering the veil over that stored memory of my long-ago friend. Watching his crazy dog antics causes me to laugh out loud and he seems very pleased with himself when I do. His intelligent eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate, appear to twinkle with humor and my heart is captured. 


And so, I asked the Whippet if he liked the name "Perry". He opened his large mouth, his doggy smile exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth and kissed my cheek.