Within half an hour of stepping into the house, the Dog had his name changed about a dozen times. We finally decided that our dear dad who hadn't had the opportunity to name any pet should have his chance. After pondering a bit, he settled for "Chassard".
"Chassard", as it turned out, is a Hebrew word for God's loving kindness. Yes I'm very sure I'm spelling and possibly pronouncing it wrong. (If you know what it is please let me know; Hebrew scholars are probably up in arms now.)
Mom took one furrowed-brow look at the black mopey thing on the floor and said it was a name for a human "not some dog". But human or dog, dad had decided and "Chassard" he became.
Unfortunately for your average Chinese Singaporean family, this meant relatives had the hardest of times pronouncing it. One aunt eventually satisfied herself with calling him "Cassette" while another changed his name to "Blackie".
To solve him growing up with an identity crisis, we shortened it to "Chass" for everyone's convenience. This worked very well, and we happily spent the next few months yelling "Chass" at the top of our lungs and down the street when he ran out.
"Chass" as it happened was much easier in scoldings too. "Bad Chass", "Naughty Chass", "Chass needs to be smacked" all went better with a single syllable name.
We thought it was going so well...until we realised our neighbour's company which he set up with blood, sweat and tears was called "Chass".
Too late to change his name, we reverted back to "Chassard". He never mentioned it and still greets us when we meet. But we'll never forget the time we possibly annoyed the neighbour more than Chassard ever did.
