This is like the last <a href=”http://www.journalscape.com/LauraLippman/2010-04-19-10:35″> one</a>, only the winner will receive a signed hardcover when the book is released in August.
First, read the essay <a href=” http://www.lauralippman.com”> here.</a>. Then return here, or click through to the Facebook page and fill in one of these sentences:
If I had a pet, I’d name him/her –
The best pet I ever had was –
You don’t have to do anything more than insert a name after just one of those two sentences. For example: If you go to the comments section and write: “If I had a pet, I’d name him Fido,” then you’re entered into the contest.
But I can’t help hoping you’ll tell us a little more. A memory, perhaps?
I can’t bear to pick one of my pets, so I’ll just run through the roll call of names.
Dogs: Chewmoon, Dreamy, Spike and Dulcie.
Cats: Midnight, Peppermint, Gali, Dixie, Travis, Pip.
If I had a pet: It would be a greyhound and, yes, I would name her Esskay.
The best pet I’ve ever had is the one I have now, Sam. He’s fantastic–very cute and sweet and fun. (You can see his pic on my Facebook page; it’s my profile picture.)
If I were to get another dog while I still have Sam, I’d name her Tess. Woman of the Year is one of my favorite movies, and those are the two main characters in it.
Otherwise, it’s possible my next dog will be named Chloe O’Brian.
Just because I’m geeking today: If I had another pet, I’d name her Special Agent Olivia Dunham (for a cat) or maybe Cortexiphan (for a dog). IMHO last night’s finale rocked quite a bit.
Okay, there’s one more extraordinary dog in our lives, and that’s George Bailey’s “brother”, Mo. Mo is 11 years old, and is every bit as cheerful and goofy as he was when he was a puppy. Mo is a � well, Mo is a Mo, just a largish black dog. If George Bailey was the picture of gratitude, Mo is the picture of joy � Oh boy, it’s morning! Look, there’s poop in the cat box! Kate’s home! Wow, I’m going outside! Hey, a new toy! Fresh water in the dish! Everything is Mo’s lfe ends in an exclamation point. You can’t help but smile at him.
I’ll do a list like Laura did:
Cats: Pearl
After she died we got – Pearl 2, Nix 1
Satchel – After the great pitcher
George – his brother was named Lowell
Lenny
Dogs: Kirby Puppy – (baseball rears its head again)
Sophie
Cassie (our current rescued queen)
Sparky (we are told he has kissy lips)
I made the switch to dogs later in life, I guess because cats are easier to manage when younger in apartments and working late. I CAN NOT IMAGINE LIFE WITH OUT A DOG.
Only rescues are acceptable.
I love animals named after Shakespearean characters, so if I had a pet I’d name him Rosencrantz… or would it be Guildenstern?
The best pet I ever had was probably killed by my parents using bug poison that was not made to be put directly on an animal’s skin.
It’s hard to say “best pet ever” because each of them have unique value and have given us special memories.
The ones which come closest to being “best” are rescue animals we’ve gotten from the vet’s office. The doctor knows we will do and provide whatever the animal needs, so she keeps us at the top of the list for special adoptions.
One cat we have, Ginger, had surgery on her eyelid just before I met her. Dr. Marty was planning to take her home (like she doesn’t have enough cats, dogs, iguanas [iguani?] of her own) so we were honored to be allowed to adopt her. She is my very special little girl, among six and a half* cats currently in residence.
(*half = our neighbors’ cat who sleeps on our roll-out bin and eats at our back steps; he has his own food container)
The other “best” would be a chihuahua named Rosie who was rescued from the pound by Dr. Marty and placed in my arms to take home at no charge, including a bed, a pillow, all shots, free dental when necessary, six cans of food and a box of microwave popcorn (her son’s Boy Scouts fundraiser).
Rosie loved people, unlike the stereotypical chihuahua, and she thought the cats were invisible as long as they stayed away from her food. She was ready to take on any other dog, though, no matter the size.
Rosie brightened our lives for less than two years… bladder cancer. I never thought I’d want to have a chihuahua, but I know I want another Rosie.
His name was George Bailey, and, like the character in It’s a Wonderful Life, he got his second chance at life one Christmas. He was struck by a car on the Pellisippi Parkway in Kentucky in the wee hours of the morning and a kind stranger stopped to help him. No luck finding an owner for the apparently dying beagle, so Kevin, a traveling salesman, drove on to his hotel to sit up with the dog in his final hours. Well, the dog didn’t give up, and Kevin found a nearby vet at first light; the vet saw something in the dog that said, “Just give me a chance”. Kevin left a generous donation for the bill and then drove on. The dog was too sick to do anything but lie still and heal, which he did over the course of the next six weeks. When we lost our beloved Butterscotch and went to pay the euthanasia bill, the vet told us about this great pup they had in the back, waiting for a home � and we fell in love. We named him George Bailey, and he was with us for 13 years � and every single day was a day in which the gratitude was practically written on George Bailey’s face. We lost him 2 1/2 years ago (he lived over a year in end stage renal failure! he didn’t need no stinkin’ kidneys), and I’m crying as I type. He was so special, and taught us so much about what it means to be thankful.
The best pet I’ve ever had and still have is 130 lb Briard named Turk. I was looking for a puppy, but when I met Turk, a mopy, matted, two year old Briard, with an ear infection, a prostrate infection, arthritis, and the most beautiful (large) head in the world, I fell in love and took him home. At first he staked out his place in my empty fire place and would barely move. But after several vet visits, lots of meds, and three or four daily walks, he stopped growling at my son, stopped trying to back into every available corner, and became my constant shadow. More than eight years later, he’s still with me, and though I’ve adopted another Briard and a Mastiff, Turk is still the only royalty in our house.
If I had a pet…what do you mean, “if”?! Life would seem incomplete without a pet- or, in my case, one or more cats. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what I would name him or her without knowing this hypothetical pet first. With the exception of two current cats who came to us pre-named by the neighbors, I like to get to know the animal a little bit first and choose an appropriate name from there.
My guy Rollo is thus named because he curls up into a little cinnamon-roll shape to sleep- and life just isn’t right unless my right arm is in the perfect position to accommodate him at night. (If I turn over, he’ll poke at me till I readjust to his satisfaction!) Still, he’s let me know that is not his “real” name. He found me as a stray, and despite the intervening years I still sometimes call him by random other names (Shadow? Smokey?) hoping to see his face perk up.
Kayo, my favorite childhood dog, was named by the neighbor kids for his “KO’d” markings- a black ring around a brown eye; the other one blue. He’s been gone for over 20 years but I still miss him.
I can only say that I would name a new pet something appropriate to his or her looks, demeanor or behavior…because we all deserve to have a fitting name, right?
My dog Moosca is that once in a lifetime friend who enters your life so unexpectly. She was a pet that was so ugly and not normal the pet store that purchased her was going to have her destroyed. I worked at the clinic that she was brought into and we could not bring ourselves to destroy this helpless, small, funny looking pup. I brought her home and that rest so they say is our history. She naturally turned out to be the swan. Unexpected love comes in packages you never ordered, they just show up and when you open them you know it is what you needed and have always wanted.
Piper the tabby entered my life after my mother spotted a newspaper photo of “a cat who really needs someone,” she said, meaning, of course, me.
The original photo shows a sad-faced cat with scared eyes. The accompanying profile identified the cat as “Dorothy, elderly, declawed and abandoned in the snow when her owners moved away.” She’d been at the shelter 11 months, and was described as “depressed.” No wonder. When I brought her to my vet for a checkup, he confirmed that “Dorothy” was a neutered male. Poor guy, being called “Dorothy” when he needed a more manly tag. He was renamed Piper Cub (the shelter was next to an airport) and began a life of contentment. Piper did not wish to play or bird-watch, he simply wanted To Be, with a world-class purr that was rarely silent. He stayed 8 1/2 years, suffering a bladder problem in his last 2 months before departing peacefully at age 19. Sometimes just before I wake, I still hear his distinctive purr, a gentle motor from a special cat spirit.
Tillie was my savior during a particular difficult time in my life. She was with me everywhere I went with her adoring eyes. Unfortunately, I could not be her savior when she developed an infection that could not be cured. However, she helped science by going to the state veterinary school to help discover ways to treat her illness.
The best pet I ever had is Dizzy, the dog I have now. It is not an exaggeration to say that he makes my entire lifestyle possible.
I’d been freelancing from home for five months when I met Dizzy. I’d talked about getting a pet, since my landlord allowed it, but hadn’t done more than look at cats at a local no-kill shelter. My friend Ann Marie called to say her neighbors had found an injured puppy on a highway shoulder, but weren’t going to be able to afford his vet bills. I agreed to see the puppy as a favor to her, not because I seriously wanted a dog; in fact, I thought a dog would be too much work, and I couldn’t afford big vet bills either.
But Dizzy � five months old, recovering from starvation, lanky and awkward and hyper � looked into my eyes and licked my chin and climbed on my lap, and it was love at first sight. He was my dog from the first minute, and even now the words “my dog” fill me with a sense of joy and wonder.
He is my therapist, my creative consultant, my constant entertainment and my biggest fan. He’ll be 11 this year, and I watch him slowing down with something close to panic. I have spent a <i>fortune</i> on his vet bills, and it’s been worth every penny.
The best pet I had was my cat Thisbe (she did have a brother whom I would’ve named Pyramus but he was already spoken for). Thisbe lived for 20 years. I brought her home from the shelter on my father’s 50th birthday. She loved being outside and once brought a live bird into my apartment through an upstairs window and proceeded to have a fight to the death with it in my bedroom. At midnight. There were blood and feathers everywhere.
When I met my husband, I told him I’d had Thisbe longer than any man and he took that as a challenge. I still haven’t had a man as long as I had Thisbe, although we’ve only got four more years to go.
I’ll never have a cat like Thisbe again. We now have two cats, Eloise and Hemingway, and while they’re quite nice, they’re not as smart or as special as Thisbe. We have Thisbe’s ashes in a small tin box in our living room and my daughter has placed her collection of Pez dispensers around it as a sort of shrine. Very fitting.
The best pet we had was my son’s cat, Garfield. We adopted him as a kitten when my son was 5 and they formed a special bond. Living on a farm, Garfield not only ruled the house but also the fields. When my son was about 15, Garfield disappeared. We looked everywhere for him and after weeks and weeks decided he was gone. Two years went by and one day we were outside on the porch and heard a cat meow off in the distance. My son yelled “It’s Garfield!” and took off towards the sound. A few minutes later back he came with Garfield in his arms. It was as if he had never left. It was the oddest experience. Garfield never left again and hung around the house even closer.
the best pet I ever had was a siamese cat named “Yul”
If I had a pet, I’d name him Ichabod.
Kobe and I don’t have a special meeting story. We adopted her from a breeder, after I had met her brother. She had white eyebrows, the most perfect nose, and was my constant companion for 14 years. She died in 2005. I hope the Rainbow Bridge is true, that I’ll see her again someday. In the meantime, I have a shrine with her picture, her favorite toy, her collar and her ashes on my mantel.
I’d had pets before Kobe, and I’ve got pets now. I can’t imagine an animal-less life. But Kobe taught me how to love with abandon and how to listen with my eyes and I’ll never forget her.
Best pet ever? My cat Doodle. He’s a silly, loopy, goofy, cuddly cat, who is brave enough to climb a tree in a vain attempt to rescue his sister, the Captain. It took a cop to get her down, but it was lovely seeing the Doodle go up there and try to show her the way back down.
My dog is actually named Alafair (and, yes, she knows) I was naming her after the character, not the person. I didn’t realize there was a real person at the time. That is actually how I met the person. Everyone I know that also knows her, told me she would be amused. She was. I am. Not a very interesting story, but the best dog in the world.
Our best pet is a kitty named Greg. WE are convinced that he’s a Buddhist, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a little bit of my late brother in him. He’s the sweetest cat ever, won’t eat wet food or any meat-flavored treats, and often sits like he’s meditating. When you’re sad, or sick, he knows, and comes and sits with (or on) you. He’s the best cat.
I name all my pets with human names because they are part of the family. I currently have Abby and Oscar, both rescue dogs.
My best pet ever was Jenny. I adopted her at 5 weeks old. She really missed her Mom, but she was my girl from day one. She was an exceptionally intelligent dog and was housebroken in a couple of weeks. She was sure she was human. I remember one time, sitting at a lake side home, all the adult humans were relaxing in lawn chairs, watching the sunset over the lake. Jenny sat amongst us, quietly enjoying the evening. Then 5 other dogs, all owned by the other homeowners, came running into the yard, yipping, playing with each other, and just enjoying being dogs. Jenny just looked at them and went back to enjoying the sunset. She’s been gone 20 years and I still miss her.
There was a story in the paper one day about cops catching a rapist. As I read further, I saw it was in my neighborhood. At the end of the article was his address, at the opposite end of my block! I called my husband and said, “Honey, we’re getting a dog.” Seamus the Irish Wolfhound arrived that night. No one would come in our yard, much less try and get into the house with him around! He was later joined by O’Reilly who was a rescue mut. We now have Clancy the Wonder Dog an Irish Wolfhound/Travelling Salesman mix who is the most wonderful dog we’ve ever had.
If I were to get another pet, I’d adopt 2 kitties and name the Arlo and Woody.
I have a wonderful lab/pug mix dog named Oswald, and he’s the best pet I’ve ever had…smart, sociable, and cute as can be. He was a rescue dog, from Hearts United for Animals, a no-kill facility. If I had another dog, I’d name him Omar. If the dog was a female, I’d name her Loretta.
The best pet I’ve ever had is Comet, our current dog. He’s half golden retriever, half silver-black poodle–yes, a doodle. Completely sweet and shaggy and goofy. What makes him wonderful, though, is that he brings the whole family together. We have a 14-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter, but no matter how adolescent they’re feeling, no matter how infuriating their parents are, no matter that no one understands them, they just love that dog. Comet is always there, always happy, and he makes us happy too, and closer to each other, without even trying.
The best pet we ever had was a black Lab named Belle, who was smarter than a lot of people. She originally belonged to my mom’s boss who lived in a town, population about 7000, in VA. Belle chased all the cars on their street and they were afraid she’d get hit by one, so she was given to my family because we lived on a farm way out in the country. She had beautiful amber eyes, and if you looked into them you knew she was an Old Soul, very wise. She was more intelligent than most people I knew, very gentle with children but she could be fierce in protecting “her” family. Belle lived to be 17, she died a few years after I moved to Baltimore and my parents kept it from me for as long as they could because they knew I’d be devastated, and I was. My parents are both gone now,and I can talk about them without breaking down, but not about Belle. I’m crying now as I think about her. I miss her. There could never be another Belle.
If we had cats, …
We named our cats after (and shortly after we got back from) our honeymoon. Lucia and Nawlins were littermates and named after Saint Lucia and New Orleans, but we lost Lucia last February, her brother a few years before that. And the argument has been made that while we would never get just one cat, two would feel like we were replacing them; therefore, … we must get three. Sounds like cat pandemonium.
So we were walking along the boardwalk in Ocean City, and as we past the Alaska Stand, some chunky little kid was sitting on the wall yelling something incomprehensible that sounded like, �Fraykidins,� over and over again, as loud as he could. We had actually gotten past him when curiosity got the better of us and we went back to discover his sister had a cardboard box with three kittens inside. Three �Free Kittens;� it seemed predestined. But just as we looked in the box, one was lifted out to be taken inside to say goodbye to his mother before leaving with his adopted family, and we left, empty handed and a little crushed.
So we are still waiting to see when we are again ready to �have some kids;� and walking past the Alaska stand has an odd hopeful vibe now, but ever since then the thinking has been that we would probably name our new kittens after the first three street past North Division, �Caroline, Talbot and Dorchester.�
The best pet I ever had was Musty, the cat.
I’m sitting here at work reading these wonderful stories and trying to pretend that the tissue I need is for allergies. THe post & comments are NSFW for me.
The best dog I ever had was Cassie. She died several years ago and I just had a dream about her the other night. I’ve had dachshunds since I was 6 and they were all wonderful, including Mr. Darcy, the one that I have now. However, Cassie, a mixed breed adopted from the Baltimore City Animal Control shelter on Stockholm street was the smartest and best dog that I ever had. I could tell stories about her forever but I won’t because I’d end up balling my eyes out at my desk.
The best pet I had was a crow named Garfunkel. I caught it, before it learned to fly. It did imitate sounds, tht it heard and sounded a lot like Simon, a Caputian monkey it lived next to. I moved it outside in the summer. It lived in a large cage. When we let it out, it was fearless and would chase the cats away and eat their food. One night I heard it making lots of noise and went out to check. It was scolding a racoon, who was eating dropped food from underneeth it’s cage. It had been trying to peck at the racoon and the racoon had bit part of it’s beak off and Garfunkel could no longer eat. I think it was the best pet, I ever had.
The best pet I ever had was a golden cocker spaniel named Spot. As an adult I learned that this dog was black, that sure, call it a cocker spaniel and that he didn’t run away, but was taken away by my father after some still unexplained event. As for the name, I got it confused with a first grade reader where the dog was named Spot. Memory is a tricky thing.
If I had a dog I’d name her Hana or Mau’i, my favorite place in the universe.
I can’t say I’ve had a “best” pet, because they’re all special. Our most recent additions are my daughter’s and son-in-law’s dogs, Petunia the rescue pit bull and Spud the English bulldog. Petunia is lovely, sweet, and endlessly affectionate; she loves to sit next to anyone and be cuddled.
Spud is, well, a bulldog. He’s energetic to excess, annoyingly mouthy, and the funniest animal I’ve ever seen. Today, for example, he finally figured how to get his butt, as well as his head, under our bed. Then got stuck. That was after he suddenly decided that our pillows required burrowing under — possibly to save us from whatever monsters lurked beneath, but more likely because he was pretty sure he would find food there . . .
We love them both, of course!
The best pet I ever had was my black masked red pied French Bulldog, Hammer. When I adopted him at eleven months from his breeder, his name then was Sumo, but I wanted something more colorful for him, so I renamed him the Hambone Boy after the Cajun song, Red Beans by Professor Longhair. It only took a week for his true character to shine through, followed by the change of name to the Hammer. He was a wicked, evil, unrepentant little Frenchie who never argued when his teeth would do and who despised just about every dog he ever met. He was my Mrs. Rochester howling in the spare room when friends came to visit. We slept together every night but 4 in the more than 12 years that we shared. No one else ever had that staying power but him. Can’t nobody shine a candle on my little bastard dog.
http://bullmarketfrogs.com/blog/2008/03/bullmarket-sumolebull-pelshire-cd-hammer/
If I had a pet I’d name her Sweetie. We did name her Sweetie. She came to us in September of 1991 and she was a beautiful, scrawny, sweet-faced cat that came begging for food at our back door. We fed her once and that was all it took. We loved her within two weeks. (We were always dog people and never considered a cat.) She was street-smart, kind and grateful. We had her 18 years. She became an integral part of the family. She died outside on the table with family members surrounding her, we could not put her down. God, what a wonderful gift she was. Kate Atkinson had a tale about “Jellybean” in one of the Jackson Brodie novels that brought tears and laughter to me. So, looking forward to the tale of Reba. Always enjoy reading about Esskay and Miata too. Even if they are dogs.
Growing up we had several pets, but the best pet was Butch. My father had stopped by the pound just for the heck of it and saw this little dog curled up with a cat. He figured that if the dog and cat got along, the dog should be a calm one-dad didn’t bring home the cat. Butch was part pug and part ?. He was so ugly he was cute and though he was bought for my mom, he really attached himself to me. When I joined the army, he moped for days. One day my mom couldn’t find him. She happened to go by my bedroom-there he was curled up on my pillow! She didn’t have the heart to shoo him off. When I came home on leave the first time, he jumped on my lap and wouldn’t leave me alone-including sleeping with me. He finally died an old man- I miss him.
I don’t think I can pick a best pet, but I sure can pick a best pet story!
I had a Westie named Pax during a previous lifetime when I was married to “that other guy.” I got custody of Pax during the divorce.
“The other guy” showed up at my new apartment one night demanding, of all things, old record albums he said were his. I invited him in to get his dumb albums and while he was sitting in the floor going through them, Pax cocked his little leg and peed all over “other guy.” I loved that little dog. He was with me for 15 years. I never see a Westie that I don’t get all puddled up.
The best pet I ever had was a cat named “Sparkles.” We found him and two of his siblings scampering across a country road at dusk. We scooped them up, took them home and found homes for the other two kittens and kept the grey, striped Tabby. Sparkles (named by my then 4 year-old son) was large and acted more like a dog. When we walked in the woods he would follow us around meowing loudly. He discovered a passion for eating after he was neutered that lasted his entire life. We have a framed photo of him scaling our fence that makes it look as if he is doing a push up – which is hilarious. When Sparkles would walk around the house, you could hear one of his claws clicking on the floor, which always, for some reason reminded me of my grandmother’s high heels clicking on the sidewalk as she walked home from church. Everyone, even our extended family, loved Sparkles. We lost him to illness 2 years ago after having him for 15 years. We still talk about Sparkles and sometimes I forget he is gone, but like all great pets, he lives on in our hearts.
The best pet I’ve ever had is my cat, Mookie Blaylock. She looks like a holstein cow and so I chose to call her MOO-kie. I added the Blaylock as a tribute to both the NBA player and to Pearl Jam (they originally named the band after the aforementioned NBA player). I found her when she was approximately 1 month old when she was living in an alley behind my house in Canton. She has more personality and spark than any cat I have ever met and she loves me (and only me) unconditionally.
Best pet ever? Have to say all of them. Our current ones are Ellie Mae, a mixed breed adopted from the Humane Society. She was brought back by our local Humane Society from Louisiana after the hurricane. Hence the name (LE – Louisiana Evacuee, but written as Ellie.) She loves our North Dakota winters and hates jets flying over. One of her favorite places is lay is under the desk when we sit at the computer. She is snoozing there now. She is odd looking, short stubby legs and long body but she is ours. We also have a cat named Paddington. My daughter brought him home as a kitten 14 yrs ago. (She did not ask if she could have a cat.) She hid him in her bedroom and I heard a scratching noise coming from her room one morning after the kids had went to school. Opened her door and here is a little black and white kitty with a crooked notch on the end of his tail. He was sitting amongst the shredded carpet and padding that he destroyed while trying to “escape” from the bedroom. He is still here spends most of his time in MY bedroom now sleeping on the bed. My daughter on the other hand married 10 years ago and I would not let him leave with her.
The best pet I ever had was my cat, Moonshadow. We had a local pet store that took in kittens, had their initial medicals done, and then sold them for the reimbursement cost of the medical treatment. Anyway, I walked down the aisle and a tiny hand reached out to stop me. It was a tiny black fluff ball and I fell in love with him at first sight and had to have him. He easily bonded with our elderly Siamese, Shin Bleu (she was a blue point and her shins were blue). A few years later, as Shin Bleu was finally ready to let go from a long illness, we were both out. We came home and found Moonshadow curled around her to protect from falling through the banister. She could no longer summon the energy to walk and we knew it was time to let her go, but Moonshadow was there to protect her until we got there. He is as noble a cat that ever lived. He kept my husband alive during a very bad several months of his life but being at his side and curling up on his shoulder the whole time. He helped bring him back from a very dark place. Over the years he developed a habit of darting out the front door when someone opened it and forgot to keep an eye on him. He never went far, he just stopped on the front lawn and chewed on grass until we went and got him. We lost him last fall, but both my husband and I still see him sometimes dashing out the door when we come home.
If I had a pet, I’d name him Whiskey. There’s something about the soft w sound followed shortly by the hard k. And the name is a sort of tribute; my friend’s grandfather had Cognac, a golden retriever who I loved and who followed me around when I was a kid.
Whisky would be reddish brown and probably a mutt. Medium-sized with a mournful bark. I’ll find him when I’m older, hopefully. My life’s too inconsistent for any kind of pet.
Other favorite names for pets: Mikan (means orange in Japanese) for a cat, Caramel was the name of a dog in my WIP until Rebecca Cantrell used him in her amazing book A Trace of Smoke, Rabbit for a small, swift dog.
The best pet I ever had was my dog, Gizmo. We adopted this bedraggled poodle-something from a shelter and the first thing we had to do was have him “skinned” by a groomer because his fur was so matted. That’s when we found out just how tiny he was and it became our mission to fatten him up. From the first day he was my dog, because somewhere along the line he had learned to become distrustful of human males. Giz was so smart he even learned to spell the word “treat”. I kid you not, he understood the word early on so we started to spell it. He quickly figured that out and we loved to show off his special skill to family and friends. Even though we have two other canine members of our family now, no one will ever take the place in my heart that is occupied by my buddy Gizmo.
The best pet I ever had was a dog called Pepe. He was a labrador/springer spaniel cross. He wasn’t even my dog he belonged to my little sister but I ended up looking after him. The only pets I ever had were two goldfish Flash Gordon who was then replaced by Flash Gordon 2.