"Donn Finnegan" it is... and no prouder name for a wee, happy lad who has the courage to confront evil cat forces and has demonstrated early signs of skill and cunning that will serve him well in the Battle of the Squirrel.

His magic is known- he has transformed the energy of this home. As for poetry and wisdom... his utterances are like music, though their content is yet to be fully understood.*

Yes, he is Donn Finnegan.

My husband Jack christened our four month old Irish Soft Coated Wheaten pup Donn Finnegan after much debate, in which my three kids and I offered Murphy, Guinness, Charlie, "Lughaidh, which is pronounced LOO ee, which means light. And Maon, which is pron. MAYN meaning silent," among other four page laser printed options. He got to decide because the pup was his surprise: Donn Finnegan's coming was his gift from Herschel.

Our beloved schnauzer Herschel died on Election Day after a difficult month in which canine lymphoma spread rapidly through his body until he couldn't even raise his sweet head from the carpet. Immediately, depression settled over the household.

We buried his silky grey body in the backyard accompanied by words from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. Lexie and I sang, "Amazing Grace" as Jack poured dirt onto the pillow case holding our dear companion.

Later, a Native American friend of ours gifted us with a releasing ceremony and we said our final goodbyes before letting his spirit go. I spread my collection of heart-shaped rocks around the boulder we'd placed at the site to discourage digging coyotes. We all wept.

Such a friend, Herschel was to all of us.

Days went by. Our fragile poodle Lorraine the Little did not complete walks with my husband; they both returned alone and sad. The cats moped around, needing lots of affection where before they'd been... well... independent in that cat-like way.

On one blistery night, Lexie and I visited a litter of schnauzer puppies. They were adorable, but I left feeling a bit queasy. I couldn't pick. I kept looking for another Herschel. I asked our dearly departed dog to send us a puppy when it was time. I trusted him to know.

Meanwhile, I researched hypoallergenic dogs and remembered that I had once wanted a soft coated wheaten terrier. There were no litters to be found in the entire state of Colorado. But... wait, there was one sole wheaten listed at a Breeder site. One wheaten puppy in the entire state of Colorado. Surely he was gone by now.

I called the number listed. A young woman answered. Yes, the puppy was still available. No, we couldn't visit on Sunday because she wasn't up in Greeley, she and the pup were visiting her boyfriend in Parker.

"Parker, Colorado?" I nearly fell off my chair. "I live in Parker!" I hesitated. "Would you be willing to bring him to us on Sunday?!"

He was four months old and cute as a stuffed animal; his tail wiggled with enough joy to exorcise the cobwebs in our gloomy home. His mom wanted him to have a family and a yard... she thought our family and our yard were perfect. It was a match made by Herschel.

Thanksgiving will be a time of treats and chew toy celebrations after all.

*Reference: Finn and the Fianna continued to fight in great battles and were acknowledged figures in Celtic history. It was said that in the fields of daring, courageousness, and skill the Fianna were unequaled and that no man could hope to be better in magic, poetry, or wisdom then Finn Mac Cumhail.