Clark in the Dark

Dr. Seuss was a cornerstone of my childhood. When I think back of my younger years I have vivid memories of both my parents and my grandfather reading me our large collection of Dr. Seuss books.  Dr. Seuss’s stories are memories from my childhood that I often enjoy revisiting; like when I occasionally read Hop on Pop to the four year old I babysit, or when I flick through the old copies of the books at my parents place.  More so, however, I revisit these memories every time I look at my dog. If you know me well, then by now you’ve probably realised that in this world I have one true love, and that love is dogs. Namely, my dog- Clark. Ever since I was little all I can remember ever truly wanting was a dog. I pestered my parents about it from the moment I could speak, until at the age of 14, when they finally gave in and we got Clark.

Clark is a Beaglier (which is a King Charles Cavalier crossed with a Beagle), he’s also the most perfect dog in existence. When we bought Clark, our first concern was naming him (the perfect dog needs the perfect name!) My family and I debated on it for a while; I was particularly fond of the name Pablo but was continually shut down on that one. One night, a few weeks before Clark arrived, my mother and brother were reading a classic Dr. Seuss, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, when they called my father and I into the bedroom to hear a particular passage:

Look what we found in the park in the dark. We will take him home. We will name him Clark.

He will live at our house. He will grow and grow. Will our mother like this? We don't know.

Clark

 

We knew it was perfect. Clark had always been one of my favourite Dr. Seuss creations, and it was a great inside joke for the four of us, so it stuck.

I find when people meet my pooch, they always ask if he was named after Clark Kent, some have even asked if he was named after Clark Rubber, but where his name really comes from is much better. And who could have guessed it, but my Clark is just as much of a terror as any fanged monster could have been, maybe it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy that if you name your dog after a monster he’ll probably follow in its footsteps.

 

For more from Anna Blackie, visit www.annablackie.com