Last Christmas, I sent my son, who loves otters, one of these little critters I found online.

I thought he was so cute I ordered another one for myself.    My son named his “Alfonso” and he has actually dressed him in little clothes and then tweets the photos from different locations.   Yeah, he’s a total dork.   Here’s “Alfonso” protecting a smartphone.

Touch this phone and I’ll rip your face off.

Yeah, I know.   It  sort of reminds me of the guy who kidnapped someone’s garden gnomes, took them on a trip around the world, and sent the owners photos of the stolen gnomes in exotic settings such as the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, London’s Big Ben, The Great Wall of China, and under the arches at the Mickey D’s in Podunk, Iowa.

Don’t step any closer. It might be possessed.

So anyway.  I couldn’t think of a name for my guy, but there’s a restaurant in town named “Lucky Otter.” Otters are not on the menu, but Cali-style burritos are.  The logo, inexplicably, is two conjoined dachsunds that look vaguely reminiscent of “CatDog,” of the ’90s era Nickelodeon cartoon.

The important thing is, my fuzzy little guy is otterly delighted not only with his name, but to have an entire blog named after him.