It's Weird, But It's My Name, OK?

Yo y'all.  The Weege here.

Look, I just barely made it back from the farm.  We came home on Monday (Thank You former Presidents and your respective Birthdays), and I'm still pooped.

Pooped.  I do love that word.

But Mom told me I needed to post something so she wouldn't get "disappointed reader mail" and other such stuff.  So here goes.

Today I shall once again, for the uninformed, clear up the story of my name.

Five years ago, The Chief was working for a month at a time in the West African country of Equatorial Guinea.  And just so you know, the pronunciation of Guinea is not like the bird, it's rhymes with bidet.

Say it with me:  Guinea, Bidet.

And mercy sakes, surely all you Texans know how to pronounce that and even know what it's for.

But don't let me wander that road today.

So, the youngest biological son left for college, The Chief left for Africa, and Mom was officially a "basket case".  

Was, Is, whatever.

Anyway Mom needed someone to keep her company, and that's where I came in.

Now today, because of naptime constraints, I'm only reviewing the origins of my name.  I will devote an entire post in the future to the dramatic twists and turns that changed me forever from "Mom's dog" to "The Chief's Biggest Fan".

Amen and Amen.

Anyhoo, in a fit of forced creativity Mom decided to name me E.G. because The Chief was in Equatorial Guinea, and those in the know, the INTERNATIONALLY SAAVY, they refer to Equatorial Guinea as
just E.G.

So officially, on my birth certificate, my Driver's License, and my Passport, my name is E.G. although, ironically, I was born just a little outside of Conroe.

In my extreme puppy (and current) CUTENESS, it was difficult for E.G. to stick.  (And can I just mention the girl at the Vet's office that STILL calls me Egg??)

It morphed into Eegie.

Then Eegie, Weegie, Squeegie (yes, all three said together).

And then, blessedly, just Weegie.


So, as a matter of record, I'm E.G.

However, if you slip me some chicken, let me ride in your Mule, or if you're a fellow fan of The Chief,

you are welcome to call me Weegie.

The Weege.

Even Squeegums.

So there you have it.

The Name.  It is what it is.

 I am more fascinating than you even suspected.

Peace Out,

Weege