What's In A Name

 I was going to post a picture of my new grand-dog, but my phone and laptop refuse to play nice with each other. She is very cute, a little black and white Boston Terrier puppy, who's name was Scarlett, but has changed to Birdie. She had the name Scarlett when my daughter, Adrienne, got her, but after being with her, she decided to call her Birdie.

I always think you need to be with a puppy for awhile before you name it. It will come to you. I didn't name Eddie, which is odd, since he was my Christmas gift. I let HeWho choose his name, then when Eddie had been with us for about 3 months, I added the Charming before the Eddie. Eddie is possessed with the most charming personality and earned his name. 

When I got Oscar, he already had a name. I bet there are quite a few doxies named Oscar, them being "hot dogs", but I decided my Oscar was an award. Oscar was quite regal and sure of his own importance, becoming the alpha of my pack immediately, so it was quite fitting to name his wife-dog Emmy. Emmy was a tiny vessel of pure sweet love. All 6 lbs of her and the name fit quite well.

Then when Cujo came into our lives, he also had a different name. He was rescued from a puppy mill and had some scars indicating abuse. He was quite timid and seemed to be afraid of the world, so I named him Cujo, the exact opposite of his personality. He hated men, especially men with hats and was very brave in my arms, but would hide his face in my neck if a man approached. I still miss him so much.

We had a huge Saint Bernard when the kids were small. We got him during the Christmas season and we all agreed on Saint Nicholas. Can you imagine how hard it was to come up with a name that seven people would agree on? We called him Nick and he was a gentle giant. Before he came along, someone gave us a Doberman found on the side of the road. She was very loving with the children, so we kept her. We were unaware that she was pregnant with a litter of nine that had probably three fathers. She may have been a breeder, because her feeding aparatus for all those puppies was hanging low and quite obvious. The kids started calling her Boobs after my youngest wanted to know what they were and was told by her siblings that they were boobs.

 Boobs turned out to be very protective of my children, but didn't live too long after giving birth. just a little over a year. We took her and her puppies to the vet and the smallest puppies did not live. They were dobermans. There were a couple of mixed that were impossible to tell the breed of and the stringest ones looked like a Husky/Doberman mix with bue eyes. We managed to rehome the six puppies and Boobs became a very much loved member of our family. She had heartworms and was pretty far gone. The vet figured she was dumped because the owner didn't want to pay for treatment. Add to that the contamination of other dogs not full bred and she was no longer a money maker. There is a special place in hell for people who do that!

When we drove to a farm in Wisconsin to pick out a Collie, we were greeted with a barnful of puppies. Three adult females and one male were wondering around the hay bales that contained the puppies. All three females had given birth at about the same time, so there were three litters of puppies tumbling over each other and playing. I picked up the cutest little male and was holding him when one of the mother dogs sat down beside me to be petted. I obliged, because I love dogs, and why not.

She had a very sweet face and everytime I stopped petting her, she would push her head under my hand for more affection. I told the farmer I wanted one of her puppies and he told me I was holding one. We paid the man and began the long drive back to Minnesota. Along with HeWho drives and me, we had our oldest grandson and youngest daughter. Much discussion was made during the ride about a name. My grandson had a black dog once that had been named Pepper. He wanted to name the sable and white dog the same thing. We all vetoed him. The puppy was passed around until he finally settled into sleep in Adrienne's long hair. My son, Jeff, had just discovered the Beatles and had been playing their music non-stop. Grandson, Dan idolized his uncle and about halfway home, he suddenly blurted out "Sargent Pepper!!"

Sarge was the best dog I have ever owned. Obedient to a fault, I trained him in two days. It was chilly out and everytime his tiny paws touched the cold ground, he peed! Not only obedient, he was a protector of children. He was primarily my dog and very protective of me. I could smack HeWho on his arm and Sarge would jump up between us, growling at him! He went to work with me (one of the joys of owning your own business) and I had to caution UPS and FedEx to not reach out to give or receive a package. He never bit anyone but he would definitely warn them not to get too close to me.

Collies like to herd and he was called on more than once to go out and find the other three escapees and bring them home. My vet once said as she was examining him that he had a very kind face. He did.

I hope I can show you some pictures of Birdie and more pictures of Bruno, the Frenchie that belongs to my grandson. If they decide to breed them, they will have some Frenchtons. Squished little snouts that snore!! Bruno sleeps in his kennel quite willingly, but I hear that Birdie will actually wake the entire house with her screams and sleeps happily in bed with her master and mistress!


  1. In my lifetime I have had only five dogs, one at a time, three German Shepherds and two Shepherd border collie mixes. The last one was thrust upon me by the seller who said "this is the one we are selling", I didn't get to choose, and he turned out to be very nervous and a fear biter, turning on me one day when I told him off for some reason. I had him put down the next day and have not had a dog since.
    I do miss dogs #3 and #4, they were the best ever, but they were long ago now and wouldn't still be alive.

    1. HeWho has been bitten twice in his life, both times it was a German Shephard. Unprovoked, both dogs just did not like him. When I was 13 my uncle brought two German Shephard/Collie pups to my grandmother. I immediately chose the black one and named him Danny (after my grandfather). He must have had more Collie than Shepard, he was a wonderful dog. I can't imagine my life without dogs.

  2. We've only had two dogs, well, I suppose three. When our son was 12 his father got him a boxer puppy. they went to the person's house so he could pick one out. I asked him how he chose the one they came home with. he said, she chose me, she came over and sat on my feet. (which is so typical of a boxer.) I forget who named her Atilla the Honey but we mostly called her Tilly. then my son in law brought home another boxer years later, a rescue so afraid and timid that he trembled whenever anyone spoke to him. My daughter and son in law lived next door to me at the time and when they left for work and the kids left for school he would come over and spend the day with me going home to sleep at night. He would not come in the house no matter how much I coaxed him and I had to physically drag him into my house at first. then Tilly died and then Jackson and that was the last dog until 8 years ago when someone dumped a 3 month old rat terrier puppy in our yard. Minnie will be the last dog I think. I would not want to outlive a dog. They get too attached and mourn too much and no one will love your left behind dog the way you do.

    1. HeWho shares your opinion about our pets outliving us. I do sometimes worry about what would happen to them if the two of us were suddenly gone. Now that my youngest has taken up my passion for dogs, I am sure she would step in. My step-granddaughter has already assured me that my turtle would be safe and happy with her. I doubt our oldest, Toni would live long without her master, but Bo is adorable and easy to love and Eddie has his charm, so ...

  3. All our pets have been rescued, or have found us. Some came with names, the others were named by the kids. We've had dogs called Juno (from mythology), Ann (from reading "Where the Red Fern Grows"), Cubby (because he was a black German Shepherd pup who looked like a little bear). The three cats we picked up that were dumped at the mailboxes were Simba (Lion King was a factor), Dusty (a mostly-gray calico), and Stockings (black with white feet). The other two cats that were given to us by a teacher friend with two litters were Genius (the smartest one), and Snuggles (because she was so hateful to everyone but me). Snuggles is the picture at the top of my blog.

    The only pet I named was my little Jack, the half-dachshund half-red-heeler. He LOOKED like a Jack. I only noticed later that his face is much like a Jack Russell terrier.

    1. Don't you secretly love it when a pet chooses you and hates everyone else? That was my Cujo and I wasn't too secretive about how much I enjoyed his rejection of others!!


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