Enzo, who could have been given several different names
F is for Festus 
Names are important.
People may wave you off, when you can’t pronounce their name correctly. “It doesn’t matter,” they shrug. But, it really does.
When Hubby and I found out we were having a baby, we discussed names, searched the Internet and studied a few iPhone apps.
If we had a girl, I asked Hubby about naming her after my grandmother Ada. He agreed and thought he should determine a boy’s name. He suggested Festus. I don’t remember Gunsmoke, but Hubby did. He laughed as I cringed.
On our way to the Grand Canyon, we listened to the book The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. The book is told from a dog’s point of view. The four-legged narrator pieces together a wonderful tale of love and heartbreak. 
As we were in tears near the end of the story, Hubby suggested we use Enzo for a boy’s name. A couple months later, we found out we were having a healthy boy. 
I wrote a poem about my son’s name called Your Name By That Lady Who’s Always With You a few months before he arrived. It doesn’t rhyme well, like many of my poetry attempts. Still, I put it in his baby book — still a work in progress —because I wrote it for him. I wanted to share with him all the name options tossed out by friends and family. 
When people ask about the Italian origin of my son’s name, I tell them he was named after a very noble dog in a book, who was named after Enzo Ferrari. 
Hubby contends Festus was a joke, but in my mind it will always be his first suggestion.

Hubby’s shoes vs. Enzo’s first baby shoes.