Ralphie 2015-135

Ralphie   2015-135

My name is NOT Ralphie and I resent those that call me that! You would think that after all the time I have been around; people would know that I do not like to be called that. Usually I do not acknowledge them when they do, but they still do call me that name.

My name is Ralph! I don’t particularly like the name I got, but I am stuck with it. There should be a rule that you get to change your name at a certain age. This way, the name used is a temporary one for when you are only little.

Can you imagine Ralph Waldo Emerson being called Ralphie Waldo Emerson after he wrote the poems he wrote? Who would want to read a poem by a dude named Ralphie? See what I mean? A name is personal and what you call someone is therefore a very personal thing.

I am fed up with those that do call me Ralphie! They should know better, or at least I think so. I would really like to tell them so, but cannot. I would be in the dog house if I did so. No one would want to talk to me or give me the time of day.

At least I can think what I think and nobody knows what I think. Or at least I think that is so. Didn’t that sound neat? Anyhow, my mind is what it is and I am not going to change it, of course, or change what I think others call me.

Another thing; dear sweet Ruth is not my real mother, and I know that fact. Still, I don’t call her Ruthie!! She is nice though! When she calls everyone, including me, for dinner, she doesn’t say “Here you are, Ralphie” as she starts serving food to all of us. Everyone is called at the same time and usually not much is said when we arrive to eat.

I don’t look at big Max as Maxie either. He married Ruth later in life, after her first husband died and I guess we are all stuck with him. Max was the first that called me Ralphie and I guess I can blame him for the name. I did get even though. When I was little he held me up above him and was saying “Hey Ralphie, how ya doing guy” while somewhat going up and down, as he laid on his back in the living room. Well, I didn’t like it then either and proceeded to pee on him. Ha!!!! That got his attention real quick.

Well, I could go on, but will not do so. I hear Ruth in the kitchen and I know what is coming. It is time for my daily Kibbles and Bits meal. I will scoot out to the kitchen, chow down, get a drink from my bowl and go lay down by the fireplace and take a nap. Max is snoring on the sofa, sounding like a freight train, which will not bother me too much. I look forward to dreaming about the cute little female cocker spaniel next door.

Den Betts

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