The monkey made me do it

(insert sound of light bulb flicking on)

I finally remembered what movie it was from, thanks to my friend Lisa and her encyclopedic knowledge of bad films. I named my new dog Rooster, incorporating my need to name a pet "chicken" with his boy-ness and an easily explainable nonexistent Chinese Zodiac naming theme (it's much easier to tell people that I was working off the Chinese Zodiac than to tell them that I really wanted a dog named chicken and rooster is close enough, plus with the added santeria reference bonus)(and with the Zodiac excuse I can also threaten to name any subsequent pets Ox, Snake, or Rabbit). But then as soon as I gave him the name, a little nagging "heyyy..." kicked up in the very back of my head and I got the distinct impression that there was a character named Rooster in a movie that I couldn't remember but who was making my brain itch in a way that was both pleasant and worrying.

I searched IMDB, asked various people, racked the potholed and poorly-marked expanses of my memory, but haven't been able to calm the voice to a point where it would accept the Rooster. Then last night I was talking to Lisa about everything and nothing, and she said "I really like the name for Rooster - it's from "Annie", right?" I whooped with joy, thoroughly confusing the poor girl and necessitating a long, winding explanation that I'm not sure she got. It figures that the person with a movie collection comprised of every sketchy and outright horrible movie made in the last 20 years (seriously - "Howard the Duck", "Cocktail", "A Knight's Tale"... I could go on but it's hurting my sense of cinematic decency) would remember the side character from such an obscure and random movie. I watched "Annie" in the theaters when I was younger (I think I was 7-8 when it came out), and remember being happy about the dancing and fascinated by the bad guys but overall not really getting into it too much. The bad guys in this case being Carol Burnett and Tim Curry, both of whom I still love in all of their manic, swaggering glory.

It figures that I would somehow subconsciously name my dog after Tim Curry.

Despite the teensy name issues, the pup is a great find. He's sweet, not too hyper, and seems like he'll do just fine with some training (which will start soon). He thinks he's far smaller and more agile than he actually is, which leads to many falling down, tripping and awkward crawling/flailing moments. Possibly something he'll grow out of (hopefully! He's already hurt his paw trying to hop over a hole and falling halfway into it), but I met a lady yesterday at the park who told me that her 3 year old retriever was still tripping over himself. At least Rooster is cute when he falls, and he doesn't seem to mind looking like a dork (unlike Monkey, who gets a distinctly embarrassed look whenever I do anything remotely undignified to her. Hosing off her feet, brushing her coat, making her wear one of my sweaters and boxer shorts with an unmatching hat). He and the Monkey are already working as a team, ridding my house of anything edible under 3 feet of elevation and ganging up on me whenever I lay on the couch. Monkey has a nice, established spot curled up directly in front of me but low enough that I can still manipulate my book without bonking her. Rooster has decided that he doesn't want to lay by my legs in the other somewhat conveniently open spot since it's too far from my face (otherwise known as the lick target #1), instead he tries to sit directly ON my head. Gotta give him props for attempted efficiency, but having 65 pounds of fur and drool as a hat is not an experience I would wish on many people.

Still, though... he's a keeper.

posted by LadyJay @ 10:29 AM