The debacle of naming a fish

In January, after several failed ice fishing attempts, I decided to head to Walmart to buy myself a new, water-based friend. I'm not exactly sure the reasoning behind this decision. In all honesty, it doesn't make sense, whatsoever. I go ice fishing to catch fish with every intension of eating what I reel in, but there's no way any fish I could've picked up at the pet department in Wally World would've been close to big enough to Shake and Bake.

On the way there, I knew exactly what kind of fish I would be getting: a Black Moor, which, in layman's terms, is a black, bubble-eyed goldfish with a fantail. It's really the best of both worlds: an easy fish that doesn't need a heated tank and looks prettier than your standard, everyday goldfish. I also knew that I wanted to name him Leo. Why? I have no idea. I just thought it was a great name for a fish.

As I headed home with Leo, I was excited. I had every intension of bringing him to work the following Monday because I'd read that having some sort of "easy" pet at the office was supposed to cut back on a person's stress. Little did I realize how "easy" Leo was going to be.

The second we got home, I realized my first mistake: I'd named him wrong. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "How is that possible? You name your pet whatever the hell you feel like and that ends up being its name."

In my situation, this isn't the case. Let me explain. I've had great ideas on names for my last three pets, and they've all turned me down.

Dexter the Wonderdog was originally going to be called "Jack," but it just didn't fly with him. He just absolutely was not a Jack. My roommate, Shannon, and I finally came to an agreement that he could only be Dexter and from that moment, he's been nothing but.

Then came the Jack Russell terrier I adopted in college, who I initially dubbed "J.R." (as in "Jack Russell"). Again, it didn't work out...because it turned out his name was Zeus.

So along comes Leo...who, as it turns out, is actually called Nigel. Oh, and did I mention he's British? Great. Now I sound completely insane. All I ask is that you hear me out on my rationalization with all of this.

With every animal I've had in the last few years, I've personally come up with a name for it that I thought was brilliant. When I finally have the pet, I study it long and hard and, as it turns out, the name I had picked out for it just hasn't been right. Finally, the correct name just dawns on me, as if I've suddenly had an epiphany. Which is why Dexter isn't Jack; Zeus isn't J.R.; and Nigel isn't Leo. It is what it is, and it just can't be helped.

Maybe it's some kind of "Animal Whisper" gift that I hold. Or maybe I'm schizo. Whatever the case, at least I know my animals are correctly named, no matter how insane the rationale may be.