Finally get round to this part…
I’m a dog nut. I feel about dogs the way some people feel about babies. If there’s one in the room I have to pet it, play with it and want one of my own. Unfortunately, it’s not possible at the moment. The place we live doesn’t allow pets.
But I dream. I go to pet stores and dream of the day when I can buy chew toys and big squishy pillows and vacuum the house once a day because black dog hairs get everywhere.
A black lab.
That’s my breed and always has been. I can flirt with idea of getting another breed. I love Great Danes and I’m nuts about my friend’s gorgeous white Alsatian, but I’m just a black lab girl at heart.
My son and I have been discussing names for a while now. He wanted Maxime (named after Robespierre), like the one we had when he was born. I didn’t think we should name the new dog after our old one. I suggested Thorin – he vetoed. I suggested Lucky Luciano – he liked it but it was the dog name I had picked out when I was twelve. At thirty-eight it didn’t feel right.
Then we went to see Rogue One and it hit me.
That is going to be our dog.
We’re going to name him Darth Vader, but we’ll call him Vader on a daily basis.
If an intruder ever sneaks his way into the house and the dog grabs him, I’ll get to say, ‘Vader, release him,’ when the cops come.
That’ll scare him straight!