<p>I love reading all the names and different breeds. When I take my Schnauzer to my wonderful groomer, it’s always a treat to see which other dogs are there and hear all their names. Sometimes I get to see a beautiful pair of gray standard poodles, Shadow and Chablis.</p>
<p>To those who have dogs with long hair, I have a wonderful new grooming comb called the Furminator. I got it at Costco, $23. It works just great on my shepherd.</p>
<p>*WildChild took our check book, found a breeder, and without our permission bought a Golden Retriever puppy. The puppy was precious. We kept the dog, sent the kid away,</p>
<p>WildChild has a Ragdoll in his student housing (against regulations- imagine that!*</p>
<p>Raise your hand if you’d love to meet Wildchild some day! (hand is raised)</p>
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<p>Buffy, the Labradoodle, is 2 years old. She’s a smaller Doodle since the father dog was a toy poodle.</p>
<p>Father is a toy poodle…mom is a Lab? Raise your hand if you’re trying to imagine “that” happening… (hand is raised)</p>
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<p>P & G went on neighborhood walks with DW and I. No leashes, you can’t put a leash on a cat; they would romp ahead or dawdle behind but we’d never be out of their sight.</p>
<p>I have never seen anyone walk a cat (on or off a leash)…I’d like to see THAT, too. :)</p>
<p>Master Remington aka Salty: my husbands very old English Setter. A regal looking tri colored with a partial mask on one side. A working bird dog till my husband got sick but always a family pet as well. Rode on the back seat of the mini van with a kid on either side. Very smart and well behaved, a gentleman. At least until a cat or a chicken crossed his path, then outta his way. And god forbid you be on the other end of a leash when that happened! He’s a very sick 13 year old sweetheart now. Blind, deaf and nearly paralized. His days are rapidly closing in and when he is gone he will leave a huge hole in our lives. But it will be a glorious day when he crosses rainbow bridge and reunites with my husband…</p>
<p>Two purebreed miniature schnauzers, both rescues from some horrid conditions. Each aquired the years my daughters went off to college. </p>
<p>Izzie: the Alpha of the pack-recognizes that I am the boss, but all other dogs and quite frankly daughters also, she isnt so sure about… All white with beautiful black eyes and nose. Fiesty and demanding. Smart and social. The belle of obedience class. Turns heads in public. Was nearly starved, had been bred too young and too often, had breast cancer and other health issues when we got her. Was very distrustful and aggressive. Three years later, healthy a bit aloof but no behavioural issues. A princess and good company. </p>
<p>Donnie: my old old boy… black and gray mini schnauzer. Now nearly 13 years old and nearly all gray. Almost completely blind. Never met a sweeter dog. I’ve had him two years. He came to me as a foster straight from a raid. He was filty, matted, and abused. I met him minutes after the confiscation. The sight and smell were awful. On a whim, I told him to sit and he did! Then he gave me his paw and I melted. For three months, he bit anyone who attempted contact with him, but never me. He was deemed unadoptable so I had no choice but keep him. Now he finally manages in the pack. Low man on totem pole. He doesnt care. Funny little man, looks like Andy Rooney and adores me. Will leave food to be at my side. Sleeps at my feet and will paw my arm to wake me if I am restless in my sleep or have a bad dream. Not a day goes by that I dont laugh at something he does. </p>
<p>I dont know how I would have managed the last few years without them.</p>
<p>So anyway, a few years ago our family went out for brunch at a local pancake house. It might have been IHOP or IBARK, I really don’t remember. Of course Lucky came too, and he sat at the table with us. Fortunately, we were able to get him the last booster seat. A while later this ***** walked in with her family, demanded a booster seat, and when told that there were none available, walked over to our table and demanded that Lucky give up his booster. He politely growled his refusal, and the ***** went into a rant, screaming "Do you know who I am? I am DOCTOR Amy Bishop, give me that booster seat NOW. Lucky had a slight speech impediment, so I can understand that his response might have sounded like “I’m using it, please go away Dr. *****-up”, but regardless of his intent bedlam ensued, and she punched Lucky in the head.</p>
<p>ha ha ha 
Too bad Lucky didn’t bite the $#%& out of her.</p>
<p>Dogs name was “c’s or better” describing the appropriate report card my brother needed before we were allowed to get a dog. Big ol collie shepard mix of a dog. We were living in a new housing development and the dog had free reign. </p>
<p>She was growing and packing on the lb’s but refused to eat anything we gave her. What was this dog living on?</p>
<p>Dad happened into the local pub at lunch and found many of the construction guys having a beer and a sandwich in the airconditioned bar. Come to find out they left their brown bag lunches out and when they misteriously disappeared they "HAD " to go to the bar for lunch :). Happy dog…happy workers.</p>
<p>One day we found them coming up the drive with the dog tied to a long rope on their truck bumper. She had messed with a skunk and they couldn’t stand being around her.</p>
<p>When my town tried to ban pit bulls, I took her to the town hall and she personally greeted every single person who came in the door. The ban didn’t pass and I think it had to do with putting a real face on an issue</p>
<p>What a great idea! It’s hard to ban a new friend!</p>
<p>*Sleeps at my feet and will paw my arm to wake me if I am restless in my sleep or have a bad dream. *</p>
<p>How awesome! Wouldn’t it be great if our pets could always wake us during a bad dream!</p>
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<p>My elderly neighbor used to walk his dog each evening with his cat strolling along behind them. Cat never missed his evening walk. :)</p>
<p>Thanks mom2collegekids for starting this thread. I check it each day and love the stories and the names of the various pets. I want two kittens - my husband doesn’t. I left the thread up yesterday and told him to read it, but still no go. I’m now reduced to whining like a toddler that everyone else has more pets than I do. 
(Question: At what point can a spouse be totally ignored? Hmm, I’ll let you know.)</p>
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<p>Oh gosh that reminds me! When we used to walk Mia, the cat would always follow a few houses behind. It was the only time he ever left the driveway. When we would stop, he would stop. When we would walk, he would walk. He was a strange cat.</p>
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<p>Out of curiosity, what did you call the dog? Lol</p>
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That’s hilariouus. I hope you spelled it “Caesar Better”</p>
<p>^^^
Ha ha!!! :)</p>
<p>(P.S. I love cute names for pets…the one new orange Tabby kitten we got, we named “Tangerine”…but we’re calling her “Tango” for short.)</p>
<p>We called her c’s or (ceasar). It was my moms idea (miss ya mom) and a great one. She was a huge dog. Set her head on the kitchen table with all four feet on the ground.</p>
<p>We lived in upstate NY and the darn dog would be outside and bark to come in the front door.We’d let her in and she would immediately walk through the house and bark to go out the back door. She did not want to walk through the snow drifts around the house!</p>
<p>She would also climb up next to you on the couch. She would then nudge you with her back feet for more room and unconsciously you would slide over a bit. Before you realized it you were on the floor and the darn dog was stretched out on the couch snoring!</p>
<p>Buddy came with his name. Annie,from rescue, came with a variation of Annie. We felt that she had been through so much (dumped in the desert to die, found by rescue on her last day) that she was going to have her name that was basically the same.</p>
<p>The golden that we bought as a puppy was named, Ellie Mae (Elizabeth Mayfield was her proper name.). We named her that because she was…a dumb blond who lived in Beverly Hills. Problem was: She wasn’t dumb AT ALL. We miss her terribly.</p>
<p>If we are talking about names, we found my favorite cat that I have ever had lying in the road of our apt. complex. It looked like it was dead after being hit by a car. I even asked my husband if he saw the kitten in the road and he said yes. Next day I heard a pitiful meowing coming from underneath my car. There was the kitten! It took me a while to coax him out, but it was the same kitten we had seen lying in the road. So my husband aptly named him Lazarus (who came back from the dead). He was my baby. Smart, loving, tough - he once chased a husky out of our yard! </p>
<p>Our St. Bernard was rescued from a kill shelter in KY by the rescue group we adopted her from. Her name at the shelter was Tinkerbell. Well the rescue decided she was definitely not a TINKerbell, but she certainly is a TANKerbell. So, Tank she is.</p>
<p>We had a guinea pig named Hufflepuff. He lived up to his name, too. The sorting hat definitely would have placed him in that house, as he had a very sweet and outgoing personality.</p>
<p>Aunt’s dog lifted his leg so often they called him Pee-air.</p>
<p>We rescued one of our dogs and the woman at the shelter was thrilled. She said "someone named this beautiful girl puppy FRED. I am so glad she’s going home with you. What are you namimg her? Ummm…husband and I in tamden “GEORGE”. I am surprised she didn’t take the puppy back right then.</p>
<p>tankerbell…perfect :)</p>
<p>We had a guinea pig named Hufflepuff. He lived up to his name, too. The sorting hat definitely would have placed him in that house, as he had a very sweet and outgoing personality.</p>
<p>Sherpa: Lucky died a few weeks ago, we think after having a stroke or a seizure. We miss him badly.</p>
<p>Sorry to hear that. :(</p>
<p>They would groom each other. Seeing them lick each other’s faces was quite a sight.</p>
<p>How sweet. Today the slightly younger (6 week) kitty was using the litter box and was trying to cover up the “business.” The older (7 week) kitty jumped in and “showed her how it’s done” and finished covering it up. LOL How sweet.</p>
<p>Six-week old Tango is sleeping peacefully in my lap…love it!</p>
<p>This isn’t a pet story, but I had to chime in with my Harry Potter themed story.</p>
<p>This is a family of fat, nasty spiders living between my screen and my window. There are nine of them. I named them…</p>
<p>Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Molly, and Arthur!</p>
<p>I have had a few dogs, but two stand out in my mind (the others we really my mom’s dogs, and I am not old enough to remember them very clearly).</p>
<p>Lady was a sweet mutt with a lot of poodle in her. She was my first dog and I loved her dearly. I cried for months after she died. Lady had long, black hair (she was very small however - less than a foot high and scarcely more than that long, when shaved) that had to be groomed. The groomer was in the woods, three or four miles from home. We took her to be groomed one day. She was antsy, so they put her in a choke collar and took her for a walk. There was a huge gap under the fence and she escaped. My mom and I spent all day and night looking for her. My mom slept in the car that night; she brought Lady’s box and lots of hot dogs hoping she’d be attracted to the smell. I skipped school the next day to continue looking (on a side note, my parent note read something like “looking for lost dog; distraught” and it was dismissed as an unexcused absence - **** them). She was found a few days later. She had been hit by a car. She was on her way home.</p>
<p>Even though I was mourning Lady, I couldn’t stand to be without a companion. Three months later my friend mentioned that her dogs had had puppies. My mom and I went to visit them, on a whim while we were out running errands one day. Boy were those dogs ugly! They were JRT/Collie/mutt mixes (the neighborhood breed, so to speak). They were all coming out of the house after bath time. We were talking to my friend’s father when the smallest puppy - the little girl - came down the stairs. We fell in love and took her home that day. Lucy will be four years old in two weeks.</p>
<p>She is a small/medium dog with a lot of Jack Russell in her body and her demeanor. She looks like a (now fat) Jack Russell on stilts. She has a black and white print. She is very playful and extremely active. She remembers training for about a week and then totally loses it. Two or so years ago, she finally started losing her puppy hair and growing in her longer, rougher “adult” hair (do you know what I mean?). She had severe separation anxiety. When we picked her up from getting spayed, she shed like crazy. She was almost naked by the time we got home (I’m not kidding). When her hair grew back, it was as soft as a puppy’s again! She has never had the coarse adult hair since. She loves all things feet - slippers, socks, and bare feet. She will steal all your slippers (from the floor, the bed, the shelves, the chairs, the washer or dryer, the laundry, the bathroom) and line her box (indoor dog house) with them. Lucy desperately wants to catch a squirrel. She caught a possum once, but it scared her and she ran away. She has white shaker syndrome and a fear of noise (ice cube trays, plastic bags, doors…).</p>
<p>Lucy is now a very fat, very happy dog. My grandmother is 80 and has reverted to toddler-hood - no matter what we tell her, she feeds the dog everything. That includes coffee EVERY morning, as well as desert each night. Sigh.</p>
<p>We have two dogs. Nicky is 15 or 16, we’re not sure as she was 4 or 5 when we adopted her from the kennel. She’d been spayed, so someone must have cared for her. She’s part Rhodesian Ridgeback, very mellow with people but aggressive towards other dogs. We’ve worked with her on this and she’s much improved. She has congestive heart failure and is on a wide range of drugs (including Viagra!) which seems to help.</p>
<p>Our second dog was dumped with her brother into a field near where I worked when they were about 6 months old. The two puppies were filthy and hungry; the Humane Society said that this was far too common an occurance. She’s now about 8 years old, named Rocket. She appears to be part Shiba Inu and has some of the breed’s characteristic traits, including stubbornness and desire to tear out the door whenever it’s open. Shibas were bred to guard the Japanese Imperial Palace, and she does an excellent job of partrolling our perimeters. She’s also a very funny and intense retriever. She and Nicky get along well, but I think Rocket would prefer Nicky to be a little more playful.</p>
<p>Our cat is a big gray striped tabby. His previous owners named him Scout, but we mostly call him The Cat or His Highness. We found him on Craig’s List; his owners had a dog as well, and were going abroad so needed to find a home for him. Scout spent his first couple of months upstairs, mostly under the bed, but he’s since emerged and, after only a couple of stare-downs with the dogs, has claimed the entire house as his own. He does something that makes us laugh or smile nearly every day. He loves playing with strings, and entertains himself with his toy mouse by kicking it behind himself with a rear leg, then jumping around and pouncing on it. We often hear cat footsteps racing back & forth across the upstairs. We hide toys under the rug, with just a little feather or string visible. He’ll eye the toy for a while and then pounce, diving as far under the rug as he can. The noise brings the dogs running to find out what’s going on, so that ends that game. He’s likes to be where people are, and will happily sit on my son’s lap or chest on the couch for as long as my son sits/lies still. </p>
<p>When I was a child my family adopted a stray named Samson, a very fierce and territorial gray tiger cat. I used the story of how I found him in the garbage can as a topic for my college essay. He was also the subject of a set of short poems written by a family friend in 1972. I’ve recovered the poems and combined them with photos of Scout in a book that I published on blurb.com and sent to the poet (she’s now 88 years old). She (the poet) was thrilled beyond words to have this book, and I’m now working on a second edition so that she can send it out to additional friends and family. Here’s one of her little poems:</p>
<p>VI Sensitivity Training</p>
<p>My cat called Sam
Who didnt drink wine
Liked sweet warm milk
At dinnertime.
Around my legs
Between my toes
He would be so busy
With his nose,
Because Sam knew
The female I
Loved flattery more
Than chicken-pie.
He could change his tone
Give a soft-tailed swish,
And I would even bone
His plate of fish.</p>