At first we tried to think of something that ended in O, so it would be easier for him to learn. Beebo, HoJo, Silo...... all gross.
So then we started thinking theme-y. Tommy is an Alabama grad, so we started there. His first gift from me, even before we were dating, was a female Beta fish. I named her Tuscaloosa for him. So that name was out, because it was too girly now.
After much thinking, we landed on "Bear" in honor of the famous Coach Bear Bryant. And, he looks like a bear when he is interested in something. His former owners cropped his ears very low, so when they perk up, it's like a bear's cartoon ears.
When I was little, some of our dear friends had a dog also named Bear- but it didn't make sense to me to call him just Bear. So, I called him The Bear. Because of that, they still call me The Mallory. I try to say The Bear as much as possible to honor something from my past too. Then, when we finally had our new friends over (the McSheas- more on them lata!) their two year old called him The Bear TOO. I was so happy.
AND, my father had a dog named Booger. So, I try to use the name BoogerBear, too. I have to be in the name somewhere... right??
...our dog has too many names.
The first late afternoon, we were all playing and happy, and then he stopped to plop the biggest poo in the middle of the floor. At least it was on the tile. Training begins on day one, right?
The first night, we tried to put him in his crate. He cried. We let him out. He slept at the foot of the bed all night.
The first morning, we took him for a walk at 5:45am. It was hard for all of us. We only did this for a couple of weeks. Then we realized his bladder wasn't that small.
The second morning, I laid down on the futon in the front room. Waking up at 5:45 threw me off and I was sleepy. Surprise surprise, Bear hopped up there with me. We fell asleep squished (it's a futon! not large!) and cozy. I guess it didn't take long for him to accept us into his personal space bubble.
He now snuggles with his Tommy and follows his Mallory around. We've finally taught him to shake. He still doesn't tell us when he needs to go out... We think that because the volunteers just took the dogs out in turns, he didn't have much opportunity to tell anyone he needed to go. And if he had, they probably wouldn't have noticed because his room was in the front lobby. We have just gotten into a rhythm of taking him out frequently and sometimes we notice he will stare at us or walk towards the door.... we THINK that's him letting us know, but then he won't actually go until we are halfway done with the walk. It's weird to have to think about another being's bodily functions. I guess that will be multiplied by 10 when we eventually have babies!
To sum up, the Bear is loved and spoiled rotten.
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