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My first rat was named after a guy I had a huge crash on, Patti. My second rat was named Selina, after a song that my crush Patti had composed. Then I had Ramses, because I love Egyptian history. After that I always named my rats after movie or book characters I liked. So I had Legolas and Frodo (Lord of the Rings), Anakin and Luke (Star Wars), Jack and Will (Pirates of the Carribean). My parents' cats are called Isis (again, we all like Ancient Egypt, and the cat just looks like a goddess) and Rusty. For Rusty it took us a pretty long time to come with it, no name seemed to fit his character. My dad chose it, it fits perfectly, he is such a little rascal, curious and a bit naught, trying out everything, not scared of anything. Can you believe that most children here in China don't name their pets? Rabbits, hamsters and turtles are very common pets for children, and every time I ask the children what their pets' names are, they say they don't have one. How sad is that?
Quote from: SeashellnBubbles on May 24, 2014, 05:47:39 PMMy Irish Wolfhound, Freya, had passed away, leaving my boxer X Mumford all alone. Mumford didn't take it well and began tearing up the carpet, even 6 months later. It was the May long weekend, and I was looking at the Toronto Humane Society's webpage and scrolling though the available dogs when this hideous, grizzled mutt's mug caught my eye. He had one ear up, one down, the flash had made his eyes red, his lower teeth were jutting out of his jaw and were mossy and crooked like old tombstones. He looked to be a miniature schnauzer cross, and I instantly decided to drive the hour and 1/2 to see him.When I got to the shelter, I told the staff at the front desk that I wanted to see "Wilson" They told me he was old. I said, "I know". Then they said his teeth were awful and that he'd need dental work done. "I know." They said they think he may have bit one of the kennel staff, but they weren't sure. I said that I wanted to see him anyway. They shook their heads and called for "Wilson" to be brought into the introduction room. When he came into the room he hesitated at the door and cocked his leg right there on the doorjamb! I howled with laughter and he came over o me with his tail wagging. The staff worker said that was the first time they'd seen his tail wag the entire time he'd been there....so it looked like "Wilson" found himself a new home. They estimated his age at somewhere between 9-12 years.It took a few days to name him....all I could think of when I thought of "Wilson" was that stupid volleyball from the movie "Castaway", but honestly, none of the names I threw at him got any response at all from him. Nothing! Mumford thought he was great, though, and stopped tearing up the carpet, so at least we had that. The third day I had him I decided to bring him and Mumford to the dog park for inspiration. After we'd been there for an hour or so, 2 huge Newfoundland dogs came up and started licking him all over. I said "Oh, god, you look disgusting!! You're covered in Schmutz!" He wagged his tail. "Schmutz?" He wagged his tail again. "You've GOT to be kidding me."Schmutz mean "Dirt" or "Gross stuff" in Hebrew.visitors can't see pics , please register or loginI just want to This is an awesome story.
My Irish Wolfhound, Freya, had passed away, leaving my boxer X Mumford all alone. Mumford didn't take it well and began tearing up the carpet, even 6 months later. It was the May long weekend, and I was looking at the Toronto Humane Society's webpage and scrolling though the available dogs when this hideous, grizzled mutt's mug caught my eye. He had one ear up, one down, the flash had made his eyes red, his lower teeth were jutting out of his jaw and were mossy and crooked like old tombstones. He looked to be a miniature schnauzer cross, and I instantly decided to drive the hour and 1/2 to see him.When I got to the shelter, I told the staff at the front desk that I wanted to see "Wilson" They told me he was old. I said, "I know". Then they said his teeth were awful and that he'd need dental work done. "I know." They said they think he may have bit one of the kennel staff, but they weren't sure. I said that I wanted to see him anyway. They shook their heads and called for "Wilson" to be brought into the introduction room. When he came into the room he hesitated at the door and cocked his leg right there on the doorjamb! I howled with laughter and he came over o me with his tail wagging. The staff worker said that was the first time they'd seen his tail wag the entire time he'd been there....so it looked like "Wilson" found himself a new home. They estimated his age at somewhere between 9-12 years.It took a few days to name him....all I could think of when I thought of "Wilson" was that stupid volleyball from the movie "Castaway", but honestly, none of the names I threw at him got any response at all from him. Nothing! Mumford thought he was great, though, and stopped tearing up the carpet, so at least we had that. The third day I had him I decided to bring him and Mumford to the dog park for inspiration. After we'd been there for an hour or so, 2 huge Newfoundland dogs came up and started licking him all over. I said "Oh, god, you look disgusting!! You're covered in Schmutz!" He wagged his tail. "Schmutz?" He wagged his tail again. "You've GOT to be kidding me."Schmutz mean "Dirt" or "Gross stuff" in Hebrew.visitors can't see pics , please register or login