Having shelled out a couple of mortgage payments worth for a dog crate, puppy food and every treat and toy known to dog kind, it was becoming harder and harder to deny this was happening.  It was as if my water had broke but I was still denying the pregnancy.

I needed to get real. And get down to naming her.

When I first brought up the idea of calling the pup Stella, P. latched on hard–so hard that he took first dibs on it for his future Shepherd if I didn’t go with it. Grabbing something someone else wants is always nice. And hearing everyone’s Brando (Stellllahhh!!!!) imitation would be good for a few laughs. But mostly I liked how Stella had this long legged, 1950’s black and white film starlet kind of vibe. It was a name she would grow into, I thought.

So Stella it was. I even began to tell a few people about Stella, using her name. It seemed awkward at first, to have named her and to have begun using the name before we’d really spent any time together. And I wondered if it wasn’t a touch obnoxious to re-name her something quite different from the name she was given in Auburn. But just like she would grow into her name I too would grow more comfortable using it.


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