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I sat down to give a remote reading on a puppy; he was one of those big breeds that makes you take a second look but even after you’d adjusted for that he was a bruiser, and clumsy.  The couple thought they might adopt him but there was concern that he was too big and strong for their much-loved 4-year-old bitch, Lucy, who’d sustained a shoulder injury during their only meeting.   They wanted to know what she thought and that was where I came in.

The puppy was named “Bull“.  Now maybe you can see where this is headed but I was so close to it, I didn’t see it at first.

The day she met him Lucy’s first thought was, “what is this?” but eventually she figured out he was just another dog and good girl that she was, she set to work accepting him.

“He’s a nice dog”, she told me.  “He needs a home and my Dad likes him.”

We considered that for a moment.  My mind drifted to the part where he was so big.  And clunky.  .  .  I looked at him and bless his heart, he was sort of splayed like a fawn on a frozen pond.  He wasn‘t even moving, like he was stuck.  “Bull” I said to myself.  Then I had a thought.

“Hey, Lucy,” I said, “what if his name wasn’t ’Bull’”?

“Maybe he wouldn’t be so clumsy,” she said.  We laughed.

I turned and looked at Bull.  “Bull”, I said, “do you like your name?”  Splayed.  He looked up at us and said, “it’s okay”.  He made a small attempt to straighten.

“So, if you could have a different name, what would you choose?”

Now at this point I just plain wandered off in my mind, “Ben”, my brain suggested.  My friend had delivered a baby son.  Sensibly she picked the gentlest name she could think of and it had worked out.  Ben is gentle, and–

JACOB”, Bull announced.  He crashed into my reverie like a steer through a fence and jerked me back into the present.  Jacob?  I looked at him.  He looked back.

I asked him, can we try it on?

As I watched him transition into Jacob he just sat right down like it was no big deal and I heard him heave a sigh of relief.  Jacob it is.

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