I believe any self-respecting animal, when brought into a household, will see that it earns itself at least two to three serviceable nicknames.
That's just a starting point. Additional nicknames can be dispensed according to the animal's propensity for mischief and hijinks.
Gizmo, for instance, is better known as Gizmeister, Gizmatic, Gizmodo, G-Money, and simply G.
Annie, on the other hand, has racked up Annabelle, Annie Sue, Princess, Pretty Girl, Annie Susannie, Annie Banannie, and Killer. Probably more I'm missing right now. More mischief = more nicknames.
She's "Trouble" when I walk into the kitchen and find her nose under the lid of the trash can. A sharp "HEY!" is enough to put all four paws on the ground, but more yelling never does any good. She just gives me the "huh?" look, with the doggie head tilt and the attentive floppy terrier ears that bounce along as she trots on to her next conquest. She's such a damn optimistic little dog. She'll never develop a conscience on matters like this — she'll just put a little bit of effort into not getting caught. Really, it's our fault for giving her the opportunity to get into trouble in the first place. So I just shake my head and take out the trash, which I knew I needed to be getting around to anyway.
"Problem child." There's another one.
Gizmo's current shenanigans of choice all involve the Christmas tree. I think it was deformed within hours of purchase after he sprang through the branches trying to attack my hand as I hung ornaments. But who can blame the guy. That's a kitty playground if there ever was one.
We're eyeing a nice little doggie named Kali at the Humane Society. Her description says she loves to play with other doggies — sometimes more than the other doggies really appreciate. That's Annie to the core. If this Kali thing pans out, we'll have to work on building up a bank of nicknames. I'll start with supercalifragilistic.
Based on her description, I think she'll earn a few more.
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