With All Due Respect to Sam IV

My cousin-in-law has a fourth generation named cat. “Sam IV”. As we talked about Sam IV recently, my cousin-in-law said, “Haven’t you ever had a pet that was so cool, that every pet after him had to be named after him?”

I just smiled at this question – a polite non-answer. But inside I was thinking, “No. NO! What are you, a freak?”

There have been several pets in my family, but three dogs have really truly had my heart. Shamsky was two when I was born, and adopted me as his own. Copper came into our family in Shamsky’s twilight years, and lived until I was just out of college. And then of course, there’s Most Beautiful Dog, the furry peg of my heart.

Shamsky was an angel dressed in harlequin fur – never a mean bone in his body, nor a scoldable thought in his head. If any pet were the epitome, it would be he. Legend has it that even as a pup, there was just nothing “bad dog” about Shamsky. He lived to be 17 years old. He died the day after I returned from summer youth camp. I’ve often wondered if he waited for me to come home, to say goodbye before he left us.

Copper couldn’t have been more opposite. A wired, destructive, neurotic pain in the butt. But adorable, affectionate, and sweet. We loved him, and it was lucky for him. If any dog were destined for the pound, it was Copper! But he knew a bunch of suckers when he saw them. My parents gritted their teeth and never gave up on him – and in time he became a wonderful pet.

Around the age of 3, Copper developed an illness for which he had to take medication for his entire life. The meds which offered him a better quality of life would also shorten it, and he died at the age of 9. I’d been on my own for several years, but I still bawled like a baby with his passing.

Most Beautiful Dog came around many years later. He was heart wrenchingly darling and we adored him beyond reason, but man did he test us. He was so much like Copper – run through different spray booths, but same frame and body style. Not to mention just as rowdy, high-strung, and inherently evil as a puppy. We could NOT take our eyes off of him for a moment. There were times we cried in frustration as we raised him and he tested us to the brink of our wits end. But eventually we got him trained, he grew out of his puppymania, and he is an absolutely wonderful family member now. Anyone who’s spent any time on my blog will know how much MBDog is loved in our home.

To me, each of these boys was/is a great, loving, wonderful pet. More than a pet, really. They’re my brothers, and my son. And just as I wouldn’t name my children after any previous children, it wouldn’t even cross my mind to do that with my pets. None of my pets were replaceable. And while using the same name really wouldn’t be saying they are, it hits a little too close to home for me. They’re all unique – how can I give them identical monikers?

I have prayed from the day we adopted MBDog that he will live a long, healthy life. Hub and I look forward to relishing the special bond Incrediboy and MBDog will share as they grow up together. A boy and his dog is a very special thing to see. And when it’s MBDog’s time to go, I know I will grieve harder than with any other dog before him – because he is truly, fully mine. Because I love him so much. Because he is one of a kind.

In turn, when the time comes - our next dog will be given a new name, fitting for him. Chosen just for him. Like the others, it’s what he deserves. His own title to represent his own personality.

Maybe I’m the freak. But with all due respect to Sam IV and all the way back to The First Sam, I’m not on board with generational pet names. My dogs ~ my sweet boys ~ unique from one another and all loved so deeply ~ deserve their own crowns.