What's-His-Name

This is what's-his-name. Is it okay to put a bow in a boy dog's fur if it's blue? I hope so because I've never had a dog before that looked good in bows. A little bow gets lost on a Golden Retriever.



Kelsey, pictured on the couch below, likes his new little brother. Kelsey isn't the jealous type. Tommy feels a little depressed and does not want to come out of the bedroom. MacKenzie is curious, but territorial about the couch and never-empty food bowl. We had a couple of fights. For being so tiny, what's-his-name does not back down. He's not afraid of alpha dog MacKenzie.

At bedtime, we did just fine with four dogs in the bed. There was a little growling, but it was manageable.

Getting what's-his-name from the vet was the worst part. The animal shelter took him to a vet in Highland Park to be neutered, so that's where I had to go to pick him up, in rush hour. I'm not entirely sure where that was, I just followed freeway directions, but it was off the Pasadena Freeway. That was the worst, antiquated freeway I have ever seen. It has narrow, winding lanes with no emergency shoulder. The only good thing about it is that trucks aren't allowed on it.

But the worst part are the on ramps, or lack thereof. There is a stop sign at the entrance to the freeway. The cars are flying by at 70 miles per hour, coming from around a bend. When you think there is a break in traffic, you step on the gas and hope that no one is just coming around the bend. There is no way to be sure in advance if it is safe to go. I'm surprised that the freeway wasn't lined with the wrecks of cars and bodies.

I'm supposed to go back to that vet to have the stitches removed. It's not going to happen. I'll do it myself or take him to my vet. The surrounding area was interesting to look at, though. There were Victorian and Craftsman houses dating back to the late eighteen and early nineteen hundreds. You don't see that where I live. But I think that the freeway was built when people were still getting around by horse and carriage.

The vet's office was just awful. I would have preferred to have taken him to a nice vet's office and paid a little more, but all shelter dogs go to low-cost, high-volume clinics for their surgery. The place was tiny and filled with people and their dirty, matted mutts on rope leads. The people didn't look any better.

The vet came out and talked to one couple, explaining that he couldn't get their dog to wake up from the anesthesia and was asking to keep the dog overnight, all for no extra charge. I never wanted to get out of someplace faster.

They kept me waiting 25 minutes after the paperwork was done. I was wondering if the vet was going to come out and tell me that he botched my dog's anesthesia as well. Finally, I heard someone in the back calling for me. I followed the voice and saw what's-his-name hugging the floor, refusing to walk. I quickly scooped him up and got the hell out of there.

So, anyway, these are the names that I'm considering for what's-his-name:

Georgie, Fergus, MacDuff, Mischa, Francis, Sasha, Jesse and Tylor. I'm leaning towards Georgie. What do you think?