How My Dog Was Named

My dog is a Labrador. He has a shiny, shaggy black coat; coppery, golden eyes filled with an unending depth. 
He's smart. Brave. And naughty. 
Very naughty. 
So naughty that he rejected his first name.

It was night. Deep and dark, just like my dog. But at that time, he was a tiny puppy - only a couple months old. 

We hadn't named him yet. We couldn't decide what to name him. So my grandmother decided to write down all the suggested names on chits of torn paper, and place them all in a bowl. She called it the 'Lucky Dipper'. Blindfolded, she would pick out a name. 

I strongly suggested to name him Pluto. 

My granddads wanted to name him Blackie. 

My mom - Hagrid. 

My dad thought 'Nightime-chuggu'. His idea was more of a joke than a name. 

And my grandmas decided 'Charlie.' 

The next day, when I returned home from school, my mother told me that my dog's name had been decided. It was to be Charlie. 

I was very dissapointed. Charlie was a name too ordinary for a dog so extraordinary. 

But over the course of the week, luck struck. My dog wouldn't even twitch his ears if the name Charlie was called. He would ignore it. He cast it aside. So my grandma decided to vote again. 

On Sunday morning, I woke to spectacular news. My dog was to be named Pluto! Whenever his new name was called, it was like magic. He would freeze. His ears would perk up. He would turn his beautiful eyes towards us. And bound to us with happiness in his every step. 

And since then, Pluto has been his name.