Dog Names

Dog names are odd things.  Usually I'm very good at remembering the names of all my neighbors and friends' dogs.  Not the neighbors' dog who lives behind me though. This evening I walked by an open window and heard my dogs outside charging up and down the fence line.  The neighbors' Rottweiler had gotten loose AGAIN and was running around in the backyard outside the fence. 
My Tallie has a cervical disc tear and is supposed to be "staying quiet," as if "staying quiet" and "basenji" are somehow compatible!  He should not be romping around trying to intimidate a Rottie, so I yelled out the window for the dog to go home. Of course, I couldn't remember his name, so my yelling was like spitting in the wind.
He knew I was talking to him, but was content to pretend I could be yelling at any creature wandering around my backyard--the bird skipping in and out of the bushes perhaps?  The stink bugs crawling up the siding? Certainly not him. Tomorrow's goal is to find a mnemonic to remember his name!
My mother always contended that before you name a dog, you should shout that name out the window 3 times to hear how it sounds. Usually she followed her own advice--"Here, Spunky!" "Here, Cleo!" seemed to have worked well for the first hounds our family had when I was a child. 
I've had a much more difficult time following her advice.  "Here, Talon!" makes me sound suspiciously like a hanger-on in a biker gang, and "Here, Grinner!" just sounds silly or gives the appearance I've taken one too many Prozac.
Some days I wonder how I could have strayed so far from such good advice.  Then again, I remember we had a dog named "Bandit" when I was in high school, so even my own mother was known to ignore her own advice occasionally.