It was 7:00AM. The sun started to rise. Multi-colored lights danced across the living room as they flashed from the tree. It’s Christmas. The year, 1997. I was five, my brother nine. I had already opened my baby-blue doll house and various items of clothing. Dan had already opened his shiny, silver Zippo bike with pegs and his new computer games. But my father told us to sit on the floor and close our eyes. We were both very curious about what to expect, but our thought process was interrupted when a little ball of fluff jumped onto our laps. I opened my eyes and looked into the face of the most adorable puppy I have ever seen. She was black, and she had floppy ears and paws that were too big for her body. Her tail was wagging, and her bright pink tongue showed me that she liked me, too. Dan snatched her out of my arms and repeated the words “thank you” over and over.
“What should we name her?” asks Dad. We all sat silent for a moment before we made our confident decision.