About 8 years ago, after living alone for way too long, I went to the Pound (no other word for it, a miserable place in and of it's self). There was a small dog there (I was living in a one bedroom apartment, helped me make my choice) that was written up as Shih Tzu / Chihuahua
Mix, and was due to be destroyed that day at end of day. She had been dumped at the pound by some mean spirited people that said she was "overly agressive" with their Grandkids. Her only problem as I was able to determine was that she chewed, EVERYTHING. There wasn't an "aggressive" bone in her body.
A friend told me about a specific chew toy which I purchased, and the chewing stopped.
When she "arrived" in my home, her name was a Hilton offshoot, but I changed that to a different Hotel and named her Hyatt. She responded to that name immediately.
I took her to a dog run the very next day and called her from across the park with her "new name," she slid to a stop and ran back to me.
She is the apple of my eye. She means more to me than most members of my family, and I would hate to think of life without her.
<message edited by Phottoman on Thu, 05/12/11 10:26 AM>