The first pets I had were 4 Doberman Pinschers; Aja (the momma, pronounced like Asia), Brendan, Whitespot, and Preston (all 3 boys were her pups). They were about 3–5 years old when I was born. I could never reuse their names. Those dogs helped raise me, protected me, and let me do whatever I wanted to them without protest (and I could be mean; dress up, pulling tails, trying to ride them). But they all died when I was very young.
I was more involved in my next dogs’ naming and life. Nike and Blaze (or Blaise). We rescued both of them. Nike’s original name was Whitey, and I was the one who renamed him Nike. All the other names my parents came up with sucked. Blaze’s original name was Blade, which we didn’t like either. We got them about a year apart. These two dogs made such an impact on my life. They weren’t “mine” per say, but they both bonded with me first, before they did with my parents. They’d sleep in my bed or by my bed, play with me outside, go on walks with me in the woods. I’d lay with them on the floor, play soccer with them (though Nike would just try to eat the ball), and we brought them with us anywhere we could. I could never reuse their names. They were too special, too unique, and had too much personality. I have never met any dog like these two boys, and I miss them terribly every day of my life.