A mistake can happen to anybody. I made one, and I’m owning up to it.
When Heather broke out a new toy for me a few months ago, I mistakenly identified it as Tiger. However, upon further review (meaning Mike may have consulted Wikipedia and an anonymous attendant at Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo), I decree a name change: Tiger will henceforth be known officially as Leoppy (pronounced Leppy).
In no time at all, the fuzzy and squeaky Mr. Leoppy became my favorite non-ball toy, preferred over all others in my stable for fetch or a rousing game of tug-o-war. Even though Mike and Leoppy always win, I still have plenty of fun letting them.
In gratitude, I’m manning up – or should that be dogging up? – and admitting my error. I know some people think I’m a tad haughty, so doing this will show them I’m human, I hope. What I originally thought were stripes on Leoppy’s golden fur I now recognize as spots, albeit of an avant garde nature.
Now that I’ve bought into this concept, Leoppy’s name is going to stay that way forever. We already knew Leoppy can’t change his spots, so he shouldn’t change his name, either.