That’s right: this week is a two-posts-in-one-week week. There hasn’t been one of those in quite some time! This probably won’t be a super long post…but bold of me to underestimate my own ability to write objectively way too many words about a simple topic.
I tend to hint at or even outright promise to post about certain topics, and at the time I have every intention of doing that. But then…I forget. It makes me very happy, then, when someone remembers and reminds me! Especially when it’s something obscure. Now that I’ve unintentionally built up months of suspense, hopefully this explanation isn’t too anti-climactic.
So, by request: Here’s how I came up with Delia’s names! (And if you, too, want to request a topic…or remind me of one I said I would do and never did—you may do so here.)
First of all, as most of you probably know, while she tends to go by Delia, her name is actually Cordelia. Formally known as “Outlands Jewel of the Sagebrush Sea.”
So…why?
Name Nerdiness
I’m going to go all David Copperfield, I guess, and begin with the beginning of my life. Not quite, but practically. I feel like it provides the needed context. Oh yeah, just a short post!
I like words a lot. I always have. And names are sort of just words but with all of this added weight and significance, right? So I’ve always really liked names. When I was little, I had a baby name book which my mom had let me have after she’d used it to name my brothers. I loved to pick out names for my stuffed animals and dolls (and later, when I started writing, for fictional characters.)
But I also just liked to sit down and read it. Literally, I would just sit and read all of them, cover to cover. Side note, but why can’t I have that kind of time anymore? At school, I used to entertain my second grade classmates by telling them what their names meant. (And yes, they were entertained by that—they were all just as odd. I was in a programme for strange little nerdlings.)
To this day, when someone tells me their name, I can see where it was on that baby name book page, often with the origin and the meaning. And I still have an affinity for names. Obviously then, as soon as I decided I was going to get a dog, I was already thinking about names.
I think because I like human names so much, I tend to prefer those when naming dogs. Even before I had settled on a breed, I was thinking of name possibilities. But at that time, I was pretty sure I was going to get a boy.
Corgi Names
Once I settled on a corgi, I had the idea that the name ought to be either very buttoned-up-and-proper or else somewhat frilly and fanciful. I started scouring lists of British names, Victorian names, vintage names, Welsh names. And I put them all down in lists, because you guys probably remember: I love making lists.
I really pictured myself with a boy, so my list of boys’ names was quite a bit longer. But since I was open to either, I did have a list of girls’ names too. For fun, I went to look back at that original list. (This was before Delia was even born. I just knew I wanted a corgi.) So, here are the names Delia might have ended up with (I had placed possible nicknames in parentheses):
- Phillipa (Piper/Pip)
- Anwen
- Poppy
- Tuppence
- Amelia
- Winsome
- Noira
- Ethelwyne (Wynnie)
- Violet
Fast-forward to when I knew I was getting Delia—or, Claudia, as she was then known. I was looking at this little pup and looking at my list of names, and none of them were at all right. They just weren’t “her.”
So I kept looking for a name that I thought would fit. And then the name “Cordelia” came up. I had always loved that name when I was little. I’m not sure whether I encountered it first in my baby name book, or in the Anne of Green Gables audiobook I used to listen to at bedtime.
“What’s your name?”
The child hesitated for a moment.
“Will you please call me Cordelia?” she said eagerly.
“Call you Cordelia? Is that your name?”
“No-o-o, it’s not exactly my name, but I would love to be called Cordelia. It’s such a perfectly elegant name.”
Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
It is a perfectly elegant name, but it’s also got some spunk. Beneath its frills lurks a hint of attitude. To me, the “-elia” suffix has always had a prickly texture to it.
And then I remembered seeing “Welsh” as the origin in my baby name book, which would make it all the more perfect! I had to look into that.
Turns out, the origins of the name are a bit murky. “Cor-” could be derived from the Latin for heart, and it sort of sounds like the French “coeur de lion” (lion-hearted.) But others say that it’s of Celtic origin, and have linked it with the Welsh name “Creiddylad.” Shakespeare is sometimes credited with coining the name. I found this interesting theory which points out that he may well have considered both the Celtic and the Latin implications of the name when he chose it for the heroine in King Lear.
So, if Welsh in origin, that’s perfect for a Pembroke Welsh corgi. And if it means “lion-hearted,” that is also rather apt, as anyone who has been around these fearless little doggos knows all too well. And most importantly, when I looked at that little face, it just seemed to fit.
I also loved that there was a wide range of possible nicknames one could derive from it. I thought that was good, as once I brought her home I would be able to settle on the one that felt the most right. And we’ll get to that in a minute.
Jewel of the Sagebrush Sea?
The other reason I loved the name Cordelia in my baby name book days was that the book listed its meaning as “jewel of the sea.” (Which is what “Creiddylad” means.) I thought that was just the most poetic name meaning; there was a music to the way the words flowed. Certainly compared to the rather prosaic wording next to my own name in that book: “young grass”!
In fact, when I was in my early teens, churning out story after story, I wrote a rather melodramatic one set in the late Victorian era. It was based on a very atmospheric dream that I’d had, and it didn’t really have a plot. But the relevant thing is that the main character was named Cordelia, and I titled it “Broken Heart of the Sea.” Yeah, I know. And even back then, I knew it was a bit much. I’m pretty sure I never even had my best friend read it—it truly never saw the light of day. The loose-leaf-notebook-paper manuscript has not survived—and that’s probably a good thing.
So when it came time to pick a registered name, I was going through all of these different ideas. And then as I was trying to fall asleep one night, it hit me that “Jewel of the Sea” might just be perfect.
The only thing that bothered me was that the ocean is not particularly meaningful to me. I mean, it’s nice—I think most humans have innate appreciation for it. I am certainly in awe of it whenever I visit it. But I’d take mountains over beaches any day. And I have lived the majority of my life in the sagebrush, tumbleweeds, and dust of Southeastern Washington. It just seemed odd to give my dog a name with such nautical flair. It didn’t really ring true.
So I just kept chewing on that for a few days, and eventually—again, while I was falling asleep—I had it: “Jewel of the Sagebrush Sea.” It had a nice ring with the kennel name of her breeder as well. Outlands Jewel of the Sagebrush Sea. It’s long, but it has a music to it.
The name that I chose mainly because it sounded nice and had geographical relevance has ended up being really significant to me. If you’ve ever met my Delia, you know that she just sparkles. She’s such a vivacious, happy, smart, charming little girl with a fire inside of her. And when we take our long, meandering walks through the seas of sagebrush that this area has on offer—not to get too sentimental about it, but this landscape of dusty greens, greys, and browns is imbued with a certain majesty as she races and jumps and playfully bounces around in it. She lights it up and makes me appreciate its beauty. And so, she is rather a jewel in this sagebrush sea.
“Delia, ohhh Delia, Delia all my life…”
Nicknames are something you can’t really plan for, so I didn’t really try to. I thought of some of the possibilities, but I knew that once I got her home I would settle on the one that felt right. And pretty much as soon as she got here, I knew she was a Delia.
Delia, to me, has that perfect combination of sweetness and sass. As I said, the “-elia” sound always sounded sort of bright and spiky to me. Like a needle, I suppose. It’s old-fashioned and cute, but it definitely has attitude. Delia is definitely a Delia.
My youngest brother plays guitar—both of my brothers do—and he likes to play Johnny Cash. He has the voice for it. One of the songs in his repertoire is “Delia’s Gone.” As an aside: one night when Delia was still super tiny, we were sitting on the patio and he pulled out his guitar. As soon as he’d played a couple notes, Delia came running across the yard and sat at his feet in rapt attention. She sat and listened while he played—at least as long as her tiny puppy attention span would allow. It was one of the most adorable things I have ever seen, and I wish I had it on video. Anyway, I end up singing “Delia’s Gone” to her constantly, and she loves it. The lyrics are dark and unfortunate, but…it builds character.
Other Nicknames
I call her “Deels” quite a lot of the time. She has a whole list of nicknames:
- Fart-face
- Stinker/Stinks
- Sweets
- Butt-butt
- My gal
- Little Miss (on its own or combined with others, e.g. “Little Miss Fart-face.”)
- Stumpers
- Delia-Bedelia
- Bossy-butt
That’s not an exhaustive list. She has the most nicknames of any dog I’ve ever lived with. I probably would have to record myself for a day to even understand the full extent of all the weird things I call this little turd.
A particularly delightful moniker is “Cryptidelia.” She was dubbed thusly by her breeder, as an acknowledgement that she did not, in fact, give me a dog, but rather some strange little creature that is merely posing as one.
So, there you have it. I don’t know if it was all that exciting, but I certainly did talk about it at length!
Some Little Updates
Since this is a short(ish) post, I guess I’ll share some little updates. I’ve decided to take a deeper dive into dog training and behaviour, so I’m taking some courses! I’m also working my way through APDT’s recommended reading list. I became an APDT member, which gives me access to all their educational resources. I’m really excited, because I just love learning. Not quite sure where I want to go with this, but if it just helps me better wrangle my own little stinker, that alone will be good.
In other news, Delia and I are going to be watching my friend’s Goldendoodle puppy, Elliot, once a week starting in January. He’s absolutely lovely. Frequenting the dog park means that I’ve met a lot of doodles, and I have to say that a lot of them are…a lot. The puppies and adolescents tend to be extremely high energy, with very short attention spans and little impulse control. They can just be very intense, which is not what a lot of people think they’re signing up for.
Not Elliot, though! He’s exactly what people are hoping for when they get a Goldendoodle. He got the ideal gene combination of that beautiful, calm, happy Golden Retriever personality with a non-shedding coat. He’s smart, but he doesn’t use his brains for evil. He reminds me so much of my old guy, Trigger. When he came over before, he and Delia played for a while and then took a nap together on my bed. Which is just a perfect afternoon, if you ask me. His hooman told me she thought Delia would be good for him and that Delia is one of her favourite dogs ever. So that made me pretty proud of my little fart-face. I’m telling Delia that she’s basically a daycare teacher now. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I think she can handle it.
Okay! That’s all for now. That was a fun, low-effort little post for me after that potty training post. Took me way longer than it should have to write that one. I don’t know why, but every paragraph made me so tired and I kept having to stop and take a nap. I think part of it is I just wasn’t feeling well, so using my brain at all was taxing. But anyway, this was a nice change of pace, so thanks for requesting it!
And have a lovely day.
