The Case For Changing One's Name

The Case For Changing One's Name

They had a dog, a "min-pin," it's called.  They named him Rex, and he was the king of their house.  Whenever I was there, he greeted us enthusiastically, he paid us all the attention he thought we might be worth.  After all, we might occasionally come in with doggie treats in our pockets.  Ever the conscientious canine, he would allow us to get close enough to sniff our pockets and draw the preliminary conclusion that we would not be a good prospect for providing his next treat.

His next treat was, for the most part, the focus of all of his attention.  His next location for a treat was only one of his ideas for focus.  His next concern-- where am I gonna take a pee?  Then there is always, where should I scratch, just in case I feel the need?  Now, the human-canine connection deals with these needs, as it has for centuries, by providing humans.  Humans, it seems, are capable of providing for every need and anticipated need of the canine species, having learned how to do so when dealing with canines for centuries. We carry treats in our pockets, we walk, caress, and otherwise pamper our pests (oops, pets) as often as we remember to do so, which is not nearly as often as our dogs do--every millisecond--think of their last treats.

Somewhere long the line, we notice the change.  We observe that the phones we have are more and more often a means to let people know we still exist--that we are on the way, and will soon be back where they expected us to be.  However, I know of no dogs that answer cell phones, text us what they want is to know.  I submit that they are faster than us, without exception.  They know at once, instinctively.  a sniff, a shake,  yawn, then they know.  But us, we have come to rely on our phones can tell us when we are out of sync with the universe.

We can learn the motions and actions of Tai Chi, but do we really learn how to stay in sync?  Can our dogs (or other pets) help us stay in touch with the energy and soul of the universe in which we reside?  
We do lose touch with the vibrations of this universe in which we live.  We sometimes need to work hard to get back in touch--to re-learn that we have a connection all of the time.  We obtain this on only a very few occasions.  Instead, we willingly accept the notion that we are not connected, that we are named just as we should be--named as humans, Jim, Mary, Sheila, Sharon, Claudia, Diane, Adrienne, Cindy, Jack, Alan, Bob, Dan, Ron; who knows how many names we use to establish our unique existence.  

But back to my friends with the "min-pin," they have a dog, named "Rex,"  But when they had friends come to visit, they learned something about Rex.  He slept in the bed of their house guests.  Instead of sleeping, as he almost always did, with his home parents. He slept with the house guests.  He earned his new name, "Benedict," as he is no longer a tried and true following companion.  He is now Benedict Arnold, who betrayed his masters, Benedict Arnold.  "Benny" will get up tomorrow and be fed, walked, nourished and loved as if he were still "Rex,"  But he will still be "Benny," won't he?  There is a case for changing one's name, don't let it be Judas, or Benedict.  Try "Scout," or "Walter;' something affectionate, not desperate.  Our dogs might still respect us, even if they deserve less.