Mr. Pants

So here is a recent picture of my dog, Buddy, doing the "I can't believe you're on the computer when you could be playing with me" look - a mix of self-pity, boredom, and resignation. My dog is not the best trained dog in the world. We have been very lazy with his training because he is naturally quite well behaved. He's a sweet boy.

When we first got him from the rescue agency, they were calling him Pong (he had a brother, Ping). These were names they gave them - they were found as strays. We didn't like Pong. Mark wanted to call him Chilly (well, he wanted Chili, but I insisted it be Chilly) but after a couple days, it just didn't seem to fit. So it was between Tucker and Buddy and Buddy won out. And he's responded really well to it.

Despite the fact that he is Buddy, here is a list of the many other names we (well, mostly me) call him:

Bud
Budman
Budster
Fussy Britches (he has fluffy, bushy back legs and a twitchy walk)
Sir Budworth Fussington III
Sir Budworth Fussington of the Shire
Sir Fuss-a-lot
Mr. Man
Mr. Moo
Mr. Pants
Mr. Mister
Mr. Aliwister
Poops
Poopers
Pooper-scooper
Magoo
Mongrel
Mugwump
Doggin
Woggin
Baby boy
Sweetie
You
Crazy dog
Silly dog
My little guy
All natural white pistachio nut (this would be his show name if he weren't a mutt)
Sneezer
Cutie

And I think there's probably a few more. It's all just gibberish to him of course. He'll come to anyone who says "So-and-so, come!" in the right voice. We discovered this a few weeks ago at the cottage when my sister was calling her cat and Buddy kept running over. We eventually had to hold him back so that the cat could get to his food dish without Buddy running all over. Ah, dogs. You gotta love 'em.