📅 Thursday, 28 May 2026 · No. 69

Why That Name? The Story Behind Mine

🌿 Daily Logs · ✎ 4 min · by Azmi in Meknes

Azmi's note My personal log from Meknes, not vet advice. Just what I did and saw tonight.

His name means black olive in my language, and it is a feminine word, so people keep missgendering my boy. Worth it. The name fits like it was always his. This post is the naming dossier: the meaning, the selection process, the missgendering chronicle, and the nickname annex. Personal story, not naming advice, though the ten-times-aloud test is free to steal. Every bunny name has a negotiation behind it. Ours ended with an olive. No regrets.

Selection: ten times aloud

Say it out loud ten times before deciding, the test that killed four finalists (two tongue-twisters, one that attracted the wrong kind of attention at the vet’s waiting room, one that sounded like a scolding). The olive survived all ten plus the hallway-shout test (calling it across the house feels natural) and the vet-counter test (staff smile, good sign). Log the meaning and who chose it: black olive, feminine noun, chosen by me, approved by him (binkied on first hearing, filed as consent). Nicknames will happen anyway, plan for three: Olive (daily), Livvy (vet visits, formal), Professor (flop supervision duties). He answers to all three plus the treat bag’s rustle.

Missgendering chronicle and name stories

Exhibit list: vet reception twice (“she’s lovely”, chart corrected gently), visitor default-she (4 counted), phone-call assumption (eternal). Response protocol: smile, correct once, move on, the name is worth the explaining. He wears the feminine noun like a tailored suit; confusion is the world’s, not his. Name stories poured in from friends: negotiations with spouses (his-and-hers finalists merged), Archer-inspired pairs (spy names for spy bunnies), a Liza Bunnelli (showbiz, beloved). Ours stays an olive. Compare with day-one naming in my new-bunny week journal (names wait till week two there) and the early days of my trust diary (called only hey-you for a fortnight). Every name survives the ten-times-aloud test or it does not survive at all.

Nickname annex (official)

Olive (daily driver, 90% of usage), Livvy (vet formal, white-coat voice), Professor (flop supervision, armchair voice), Bug (2020 vintage, nostalgia only), Your Olive-ness (treat negotiations, deployed strategically). Each nickname earned, none assigned day one, the annex grows the way trust grows: slowly, then all at once. Usage log: Olive dominates mornings, Professor evenings, Livvy exclusively clinical. Response rates: all three answered, treat-bag rustle answered fastest (not a name, noted separately). Missgendering report, updated: corrections holding steady at smile-once-move-on; the feminine noun suits him better with every year (olive oil, olive branch, olive boy, the associations dignify). Name stories archive grows: latest addition, a pair named Salt and Peppa (seasoned, beloved). Ours stays an olive, black, beloved, boy.

Naming advice desk (one visit)

Friends expecting their first ask; the desk opens once: say it ten times aloud (kill the tongue-twisters early), shout it down the hallway (test acoustics), whisper it at 2am (test tenderness), check the vet-counter smile (test public life), confirm the meaning ages well (olives improve; trends don’t). Plan three nicknames minimum (they arrive uninvited, plan the housing). Log who chose it and why (future disputes need records). Our negotiation record: proposed by me over dinner, seconded by a binky, ratified by seven years. Every bunny name has a negotiation behind it; file the minutes. No regrets, one olive, endless nicknames.

Dossier closed with the name spoken ten times once more (test repeated annually, passes every year). The olive endures: black, beloved, boy, feminine noun, masculine bunny, perfect fit. Missgendering continues (world’s habit, our smile), nicknames multiply (annex never closes), the ten-times test stands ready for friends’ litters. Filed under identity, cross-referenced under love. No regrets, endless Olive.

Final entry in the dossier: the name outlived every alternative, survived every test, charmed every vet counter. Olive through seven years, Olive forever. New friends learn it in one telling; old friends shorten it three ways. The feminine noun on the masculine bunny: our favorite contradiction, our best decision. Dossier sealed with a binky (his) and a smile (mine). Worth it, daily.

Olive forever: the dossier’s last line and the house’s shortest poem. Black olive, feminine noun, masculine bunny, said ten times once more for the road. Each saying smoother, each meaning deeper. Names are the first gift and the longest-kept; this one keeps perfectly. His and ours, always.

Olive, Livvy, Professor: three names, one bunny, seven years. Called daily, answered always.

Anniversary of the naming, marked yearly: the ten-times test repeated on the date, hallway shout re-shouted, vet-counter smile re-earned. Six anniversaries so far, six passes, zero doubts. Friends’ naming ceremonies attended: two (advice given once, say it ten times, taken twice, both olives in spirit). The dossier’s appendix grows with others’ stories; the core stays one black olive. Names name the love as much as the bunny. Ours, daily.

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Written by Azmi

I track my rabbits' diet, weight and naps to see what works. Photos are mine, mess included. Say hi on the contact page.

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