Why Calling Your Dog Sir Wigglebottom Is More Normal Than You Think
Somewhere right now, a grown adult is standing in a kitchen addressing a nine-kilo mongrel as Sir Wigglebottom, in a voice roughly two octaves above their normal one. The dog’s legal name is Max. Nobody has called him Max since 2019.
Most people would file that under having lost the plot a little. Too attached. Probably needs more human friends. However, research points somewhere duller and more interesting: this is bog-standard intimacy behaviour, aimed at a dog.
Couples do the exact same thing
In 1987, three researchers conducted a study involving 100 romantically involved couples, asking them to list every word, phrase, or gesture that carried a meaning only the two of them understood. The couples came up with 647 such expressions. Nicknames featured prominently among these, alongside teasing insults.
Breaking down the numbers, that averages roughly six or seven private terms per couple. Importantly, couples with more of these unique terms tended to score higher on measures of love, commitment, and closeness.
It’s important to note that this is a correlation, not definitive proof that inventing nicknames creates affection. Nevertheless, it reframes the pet situation: six or seven affectionate names for one beagle comfortably sits within the typical range for any close human relationship.
Baby talk is not the red flag it sounds like
Often, the voice used when addressing pets is what attracts judgment. High-pitched, exaggerated vowels, and rhetorical questions directed at an animal that will never answer them can sound odd to outsiders.
Interestingly, a 1996 study examined adults who used baby talk with romantic partners and close friends, finding they tended to be more securely attached and less avoidant overall. Whatever the high-pitched voice signals, emotional fragility doesn’t seem to be one of them.
The dog is getting something out of it
In 2018, researchers at the University of York studied how dogs respond to different ways of being spoken to. They found that dogs paid more attention to people using naturalistic dog-directed speech and were warmer towards them. This style combines sing-song delivery with words a dog actually understands and cares about.
What’s fascinating is that when the researchers separated these elements—sing-song delivery paired with irrelevant content, or dog-relevant words spoken flatly—the dogs’ preference disappeared. Both components must be present for the effect.
This suggests that a rotating cast of nicknames delivered in that silly voice signals to the dog that something good is coming. Though it’s one study in a particular setting, it strongly indicates the dog recognizes and responds to these cues.
Where the worry has a point
The stereotype of someone “losing the plot” with their pet isn’t baseless. A 2007 psychological theory on why people anthropomorphize non-human things identifies three main drivers. Two are natural cognitive mechanisms: our extensive knowledge of human minds leads us to apply human traits by default, and our desire to predict unpredictable behaviors pushes us to interpret animal actions through a human lens. The third driver is a social hunger—people who feel isolated or cut off from human contact tend to anthropomorphize more.
Thus, the common jab to “go and make some friends” holds some truth. However, it only addresses one factor of three, with the other two being natural functions of a social brain.
A more useful question isn’t how many names the dog has, but whether this naming practice complements a full life or quietly replaces meaningful social interaction.
What the names are actually doing
Private language draws a boundary. A word that only two parties can understand marks a relationship as its own small territory, closed off to everyone else. This is why couples develop private vocabularies, why families have inside jokes, and why old friends still use nicknames from decades-old memories.
Though a dog cannot contribute to this linguistic exchange, it can still be the second party in a private language. Evidence suggests dogs pick up on the tone and register even when the exact vocabulary goes beyond their comprehension.
Max is fine. So, in all likelihood, is whoever keeps calling him Sir Wigglebottom.
