Ever have one of those weeks where all of your well-intentioned to-do lists melt into a molten puddle, not unlike the faces of the Nazis on beholding the ark?

Yeah, me too.

That was last week. I do not know what happened to last week. I may have misplaced it. If so, I’ll find it with my car keys and a half-drunk cup of tea in some cold, remote corner of the house one day. It’ll be like finding extra bonus time for good behavior. Right? Right?

 

The Requisite Recap

In the last episode of Harmony with Animals — a cliffhanger! — our intrepid blue dog was left nameless — and only you could save him from that sad fate.

 

 

Luckily, you jumped right into the fray. Our ragtag team banded together, heaping names left and right to thwart the nefarious, nameless state.

Somehow, most of the names centered on blue. I wonder why? Far be it from me to know such mysteries.

Wondering aside, here are the names that popped up in the comments and in my email, in alphabetical order, if you alphabetize creatively:

 

• Bluey (from Tat)
  A cutie-pie variation on the blue theme, which sounds a bit like “phooey,” a fabulous though rarely-spoken word (except by the illustrious Olive Oyl: “I said phooey and I mean phooey. Phooey!”)

• Yes I Cyan (from Deborah Weber)
  The only name submitted that forms a complete sentence, causing the writer in me to swoon.

• Lovie (from Susan Michael Barrett)
  Which, if you know Susan, fits her to a tee.

• Blue and Axel (from Nancy Jambor)
  “Axel” may seem anomalous to the blue theme, but Nancy explains that it probably jumped into her mind from the word “azul.” Which also makes the writer in me swoon, as I love words that sound alike slantwise.

• Bluebes (As in “bloobs”) (from Kelly McKenzie)
  Trust Kelly to come up with a word that sounds just a little bit like a colloquialism for private body parts.

• Lapis and Indigo (from Linda Watson)
  Hmm, Linda, I’m liking the way you think…

• Indigo (from Andi Graves)
• Hmm, Andi, I’m liking the way that both you and Linda think. (That’s a hint, folks.)

• Azul (from Janet)
  This one reminds me of Azula, the name of one of the heavies in Nickelodeon’s brilliant animated series, “The Last Airbender.” For those who doubt that Nickelodeon and genius can cohabitate, get thee to a Netflixery and start watching from episode one. You will eventually swoon.

• Miles, after Miles Davis and his album Kind of Blue (from Heather Koshiol)
  This was the first name to appear that would show up in a baby name book. I’m partial to naming real-life animals with good human names (if you ignore my cat Shnoodle, who often Will Not Be Ignored). So I’m tucking “Miles” into a fold in my brain for future use. Besides, it sounds an awful lot like the darling and crush-worthy Niles Crane (swoon redux).

• Musics (from Lily Lau)
  The first — and only — name idea that references music!* Thank you, Lily, for seeing beyond the blue to the musical notation.

* Except for Miles Davis, which I categorized into the blue(s) department. (Of course.)

• Azure Seas (from Elda)
  What a pretty-sounding name. I think I’d end up shortening this to the nickname Azzy. Which is jazzy. Not unlike our Miles.

• Tansy (my friend Aprile, via email)
  Ding ding ding! Aprile wins the award for naming the dog a color that is not blue! Well, sort of. See, “Tansy” just popped into her mind. Being the curious sort, I had to google it — and I discovered that the tansy plant produces a yellow dye, which just so happens to look lovely with (need three guesses?) blue.

 

Drumroll Please…

So, what’s it to be? Which name will rescue the big, blue dog from the doldrums of namelessness?

As it turns out, none of the above. Well, almost.

Of all the names submitted, Linda and Andi suggested the name that suggested the name to come.

Were you wondering why I referenced face-melting Nazis in the first sentence of this post? Well, wonder no more. It is not just because I go around citing 1980s action-adventure-archaelogy films on a regular basis. It is also because I wanted to prepare you for the shock to come.

Here it is folks: The blue dog’s name is Indy — short for Indigona Jones.

Because I heart puns. Perhaps more than I have a right to.

Swoon.

 

 

---

 

 

Thank you to everyone who contributed these fabulous names! You are all magnificent. Without you I would have named the dog something ordinary, monosyllabic, and very unblue. Like Ed, or dare I say, Red.

 

 

 

 

I’ve been noodling on a blog post for a few days now. But this morning at breakfast, as I gazed at the world over peanut-butter-and-banana toast, my noodle starting noodling in a whole new way. Quite frankly, the old brain bowled me over.

I had been planning a post — a nice, safe post, in which I make fun of myself (easy to do), thus providing a fail-safe personal hiding system: You can’t see who I really am because I’m too busy cracking jokes on my own behalf. As you probably know, self-mockery is one of my comfort zones, lined with plush, if dusty, pillows, where I snidely ache for a bit more lumbar support.

But at breakfast, when I gave the world my peanut-buttery gaze, the cranial spaghetti piped up to ask, “What is the  most vulnerable thing you could share today?”

My first response: Sh*t.

My second response: My brain is not supposed to know me that well. 

My third response:  A brand-new painting, less than twenty-four hours old.

 

 

 

Usually, I sit on my artwork for months before sharing it. Last week’s self-portrait? About nine months old before it emerged from its cocoon.

I have a backlog of paintings that are just waiting to go on their Grand Tour of the Internet. Eventually, I’ll give in and let them run amok, but for now, I hoard them, crouching over my vault of art, and occasionally swimming through it like Scrooge McDuck. Anyone who has made a deep study of Scrooge knows that the miser swims in fear of losing it all.

And thus I butterfly and burble through my body of work, unshared, knowing that the moment I publish it, the bubble of delight may burst, and I might be one lonely duck flopped on the floor of a cavernous, empty room.

Good thing that frequent Scrooge McDucking is normal for creative types. Like me, like you.

Today I decided to meet my noodle where it stood, challenging me in all my vulnerable glory. So, I’m sharing a painting that was just born yesterday, a bright orange cat newly hatched unto the world.

Not only is the painting new, but so is this style, and as well as this new-to-me watery medium for these post-acrylic days.

 

 

Now, do me a favor, please. Consult the pasta bowl that is your brain, and elbow yourself with the very same question my noodle macaronied at me. What’s the most vulnerable thing you could share today?

Aside from odorous feet and all the other tragedies of life, of course. So let’s rephrase it: What’s the most vulnerable creative thing you could share?

Inquiring minds, and fellow Scrooge McDucks, truly do want to know.