My Dog Steve

People often ask me why I named my dog Steve. Those people are never named Jake. People named Jake always get it. When I was a teen-ager my friend's dad had a dog named Jake (as do most people apparently.) My friend's dad gained no end of pleasure in shouting things like, “JAKE! Get off the couch!!!” or “JAKE! Stop humping!!!” The latter may have actually been directed at me, but I can't be sure.

So, I told myself, ever since those dark days of high school, that if I ever get to name a dog, I am picking the most common name that I can think of... Now, I secretly smile every time I yell at my bastard dog, “STEEEVE! Get back here!!!” And Steve really is a bastard, or at least he used to be. I am getting him trained up now, that's what I tell myself anyway.

So, to all you Steve's out there, welcome to my world, I hope to startle you soon. Anyway, I imagine you will hear about some of Steve's antics soon enough.  Steve is a three year old Bassett Hound.  This photo was taken after he somehow managed to pass an obedience course at Petco.