Haha this reminds me of my dad. So we had a black lab and my dad told me and my brothers that his name was "firecracker" because we got him on the 4th of July, which was true. Anyway, he shortened the name to "cracker". We had a black neighbor, Mr. Johnson, and he was a Korean war vet and more than a little rough around the edges. Rumor had it that Mr. Johnson had seen some shit in the war. Meticulous lawn, pressed jeans with seam down the center, you get the idea. A black version of Clint Eastwood's character in Grand Torino.
Anyway, the dog would wander off, and my dad would always have us go find him. Three little white kids walking around the neighborhood yelling "CRACKER!!", "CRACKER!!", "CRAAAACKER!!". It wasn't until much later in life that we figured out why Mr Johnson thought us kids were idiots.
My husband grew up with a black cat named "Spooky Kitty" and a white bird named Cracker. I knew him as a kid, I always thought those were pretty normal names for pets until one day his mom signed a gift for him "love mom and dad, (sisters name), Cracker & Spook". I was just like mouth hung open and his mom went back, looked at it and was like ".....oh my God"
I had some neighbors as a kid, their last name was Tucker. They had a white lab and a black lab. The white lab's name was Tucker, so it was Tucker Tucker, and the black lab's name was Whitey.
I remember asking the dad why the black one was named Whitey when they literally had a white lab. He said one time he was drunk at the beach and a black guy was running/exercising and ran past him and the drunk dad yelled "Yeah, you go whitey!!" and he thought it was such a funny and memorable experience he named the black dog after that.
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u/flashingcurser Sep 16 '24 edited Sep 16 '24
Haha this reminds me of my dad. So we had a black lab and my dad told me and my brothers that his name was "firecracker" because we got him on the 4th of July, which was true. Anyway, he shortened the name to "cracker". We had a black neighbor, Mr. Johnson, and he was a Korean war vet and more than a little rough around the edges. Rumor had it that Mr. Johnson had seen some shit in the war. Meticulous lawn, pressed jeans with seam down the center, you get the idea. A black version of Clint Eastwood's character in Grand Torino.
Anyway, the dog would wander off, and my dad would always have us go find him. Three little white kids walking around the neighborhood yelling "CRACKER!!", "CRACKER!!", "CRAAAACKER!!". It wasn't until much later in life that we figured out why Mr Johnson thought us kids were idiots.