Lately, this one keeps circling back around: how do people decide what to name their dogs? And yes, I’ll admit it – I’ve already spent far too long thinking about what I’ll call the next dog who decides to move in and make himself a Boyd.

Growing up in Alabama, I knew plenty of Bears and Bryants, a handful of Jordans and Shugs, and more Crimsons and Tides than I could count. Names like Aubie and Tiger were practically part of the neighborhood roll call. Saban might be the single most popular dog name of the last twenty years, and Nick has probably topped the list of human names too. That’s life in our corner of the South.

People name dogs after actors, actresses, movie characters, royals, and even Popes. As a kid, I had a Springer Spaniel named Chips after my favorite TV show. I had no idea at the time that it was also the nickname for the California Highway Patrol. I just liked the show.

But the names I get the most lost in are the literary ones. But the names I get the most lost in are the literary ones. Because books give you characters who already live somewhere inside you. And sometimes the right name finds you before you even realize you’re looking.

For my 20th birthday, my parents surprised me with a tiny white fluffball of an English Labrador retriever. I still don’t know why they thought a sleep-deprived, immature college kid like me needed a puppy… unless they really just wanted Sam, our family chocolate Lab, to have a friend. Two birds, one stone.

When it came time to name him, I was stuck. No ChatGPT, dial up internet, just a bag phone and my own imagination.

I happened to be rereading “To Kill a Mockingbird” for about the tenth time, and I thought I’d name him after one of the characters. Boo Radley was my first thought, but my mother has always called her sister Boo, so that was out.

Jem felt too plain. Dill was risky; my smart-aleck friends would have called him Pickle forever. Atticus was close. My cousin eventually used it for one of his dogs.

Then it hit me: Scout. Simple, strong, perfect. As it turned out, their personalities lined up almost exactly the way I imagined. A little reckless. Loving and kind. Loyal to the bone. Mischievous in all the best ways. Always happy. Always wagging.

His recklessness caught up to him sooner than it should’ve. He had a girlfriend who lived across the highway, and he couldn’t stay away from her. One day he went to see her at the wrong time. It’s been years, but I still catch myself looking for him in the yard.

Funny how a simple name can hold an entire life inside it. Scout did. Most good dogs do.

Now it’s your turn. How did your dog get its name? Tell us your story – we’d love to hear it.