My Name is…

Lucy*.

One of my students suggested Lucy and I liked it. Felt sufficiently old-fashioned, had some literary and children’s lit connections, family (my father was Lew for short and Lucy is Lu for short too), and just felt more or less right. I’ve since been told that it is the most popular dog name in my part of town and that when you call “Lucy” in the park many dogs come running.

She is also becoming more brazen by the minute. I thought I’d scared her (by knocking over the gate I’d gotten to keep her out) so that the open doorway between the living room and kitchen had a force field she wouldn’t cross. Well, a few minutes ago she crossed it. Not even a week and my feeble attempts to maintain mystery have gone to the um ….dogs? How quickly they grow up.

And please ignore the phallic toy next to her.

Which squeaks.

And causes puppy wildness.

* Sorry, Roger.