We adopted our new puppy a few days ago. She’s a black poodle mix with a small patch of white on her chest and on her two back paws. Her temperament thus far is friendly, cuddly, and very laid-back. She is fantastic around kids, allowing them to carry her around anywhere. So far, we haven’t attempted to train her to the electric fence because she stays right by our sides and doesn’t wander off. She hasn’t even bothered to explore much of our own yard yet.
Her name is Paris. It was the name that the rescue shelter was calling her. I suggested several other names to my daughters, but they fought over everything, and at the end of the day, Paris stuck. It sort of suits her though. She’s a poodle, after all. My two daughters have French sounding names, and our family travels quite a lot, so having a dog named after a major international city seems fitting. My husband is hoping that when he sees Paris Hilton on TV or in magazines, he’ll think of our dog, rather than the other way around.