Good Dog Names

Getting a dog. Man, there’s nothing quite like it, is there? That swirl of excitement, the sheer anticipation, the quiet promise you make to this furry creature who’s about to become your world. And right there, wrapped up in all that fuzzy joy and maybe a tiny bit of anxiety about potty training, is the big question. The one that looms larger than you’d think for something seemingly so simple: What are you going to name them?

Seriously, it feels like one of the first truly important decisions you make for them, doesn’t it? It’s not just a tag you clip onto a collar. It’s their identity. It’s the sound you’ll use a million times a day, in every tone imaginable – happy, worried, firm, playful. It’s the sound that, if you get it right, will make their ears perk, their tail wag, their head cock in that utterly adorable way. Get it wrong… well, it just doesn’t feel right. It’s like putting the wrong lid on a perfect pot.

I remember the first time I went through this properly, not just naming a childhood pet where the rules seemed less… weighted. This was my first adult dog, chosen by me, for my life. A little scruffy mutt with ears that seemed to have a mind of their own. I swear, the pressure was intense. It felt like I was signing their birth certificate, except way more fun, obviously, but also permanent. This was it. Forever.

Where do you even start? I remember scouring lists online – “Top 100 Male Dog Names,” “Cute Names for Small Dogs,” “Unique Dog Names.” They were helpful, I guess, gave you a starting point, but they also felt… impersonal. Like picking a name off a menu without tasting anything. And the sheer volume! Overwhelming. Every name started to blur. Rex, Max, Buddy, Charlie, Cooper, Daisy, Lucy, Bella, Molly… all perfectly fine names, lovely even, but none of them felt like him. Not yet, anyway.

Then you ask friends. Oh god, the suggestions. Everyone’s got an opinion, right? And they mean well, they really do. But you get everything from the utterly ridiculous (“Name him Waffles!”) to the surprisingly profound, and everything in between. My neighbour suggested “Tank” because he looked like he’d grow into his paws (he didn’t, bless him). My sister pushed for “Pip” because he was small and energetic. My ex, bless his heart, just kept saying “something cool, like ‘Vader’.” Vader? For a fluffy, slightly clumsy little dude? Nope. Just… no.

So, how do you find that perfect name? For me, it wasn’t about ticking boxes on a list. It became about observation, about feeling. I spent a few days with him before I settled on anything, just watching him. What was his personality? Was he a sleepy snuggler or a little whirlwind of destruction (initially, definitely the latter)? Was he brave and bold, or a bit timid and shy? Did he have a funny habit? Was there something striking about his appearance?

That’s one way, isn’t it? Naming by personality. You see a dog who zooms around the yard like a furry rocket? Maybe something high-energy like Dash, or Ziggy, or even Zoomie itself. Got a perpetually calm, wise-looking old soul? Perhaps a name that feels grounded, like River, or Stone, or Sage. What about the one who just wants to bury their head in your lap? Snuggles, or Bear, or Pudding (seriously, I know a dog named Pudding, and it fits!).

Then there’s naming by appearance. This feels almost instinctual. A snow-white floof? Cloud, Casper, Ghost, Blanca. A sleek black beauty? Shadow, Midnight, Ink, Pepper. A patch-covered goofball? Patches (obvs), Harlequin, Domino. A redhead? Rusty, Sunny, Copper. My little guy, with his chaotic mix of beige, brown, and white fur and those wild ears, didn’t scream any specific colour, but he had this kind of earnest, slightly bewildered look. Nothing about his look immediately jumped out as the name.

Size is another common one, often used ironically. Naming a teacup Chihuahua “Thor” or a Great Dane “Tiny.” It’s funny, memorable, and often gets a smile. But again, it has to fit the individual dog’s vibe, not just be a joke.

And then there are the names from things we love. Pop culture is a goldmine. How many Lokis, Leias, Chewbaccas, and Harrys are out there? So many! My friend’s dog is named Frodo, a brave little terrier mix, and it just works. Or food and drink names – Whiskey, Sushi, Taco, Cookie. They’re often short, punchy, and kinda cute. Music icons, literary characters, places that are special to you. The options are infinite, maybe too infinite.

Human names on dogs? Absolutely! Max, Lucy, Charlie, Bella, Sophie, Jack. These feel familiar, comfortable. They give the dog a certain gravitas, I think. Makes them feel more like a member of the family, which, let’s be honest, they absolutely are. There’s something inherently lovely about calling out a perfectly normal human name and having a furry face look back at you, tail wagging.

Okay, so once you’ve got a shortlist, or even just one name bubbling up that feels promising, there are some practical things to consider. And yeah, this is where the rubber meets the road.

First up: Length. Generally speaking, shorter is better. One or two syllables are ideal. Why? Think about calling your dog at the park when they’re distracted by a squirrel way across the field. “Maximilian! Come!” vs. “Max! Come!” See? Much easier to project, much easier for them to register quickly. Plus, training commands are often short too. You want their name to be distinct.

Which brings me to the sound of the name. Does it sound too much like a common command? “Kit” is adorable, but could it be confused with “Sit”? “Fletch” is cool, but might sound like “Fetch.” You want a name that stands out in the noise of everyday life and training. Names with hard consonants or strong vowels often carry well – think Duke, Rocky, Finn, Luna, Stella.

And the feel of the name. This is less about logic and more about intuition. Say the name out loud. How does it feel rolling off your tongue? Does it sound happy? Stern? Playful? Does it match the energy of the dog? Try yelling it. Try whispering it. Does it still feel right? You’re going to be saying this name thousands of times. Make sure it’s one you enjoy saying!

Also, think about longevity. That ridiculously cute puppy name… will it still fit when they’re a stately old dog? Maybe “Wiggles” isn’t quite the right vibe for a dignified senior, even if they still wiggle occasionally. Some names are timeless, others are maybe better suited for temporary nicknames. Consider if the name will grow with them.

The vetting process. Once you think you have the name, say it to your family. To close friends. See their reaction. Do they light up? Do they hesitate? Sometimes, an outside perspective can highlight something you missed, or just confirm that you’ve nailed it. My partner and I argued gently over my little guy’s name for days. I liked “Gus,” they liked “Rocky.” Neither felt quite right. Then one morning, I just said, “What about Finn?” And we both kind of went quiet for a second, then nodded. Yeah. Finn. It just felt right. Like it was always his name, and we just had to find it.

Finn. My little scruffball. It’s short, easy to say, has a nice sound. It felt a bit adventurous, a bit charming, like him. It wasn’t based on his looks directly, or a single personality trait (though he is a bit of a scruffy adventurer). It was more about the whole picture, the feeling of him. And the first time I called it out, and those big ears swiveled towards me, and his tail gave that tentative little wag? Yeah. That was it. Bond formed.

I’ve known dogs named after literary characters (Atticus, Darcy), types of food (Cheerio, Mochi), historical figures (Cleo, Winston), and even weather phenomena (Thunder, Misty). Each name, in its own way, seemed to capture something essential about the dog. The tiny, feisty Jack Russell named “Spartacus”? Perfect. The giant, gentle Newfoundland called “Bear”? Couldn’t be better. The nervous rescue Poodle named “Willow”? Soft, delicate, hopeful.

Finding the right name is part of the journey of welcoming a dog into your life. It’s not a chore, or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s an opportunity to think about who this creature is, who they might become, and what kind of relationship you want to build. It’s the very first gift you give them, the first specific identifier they have in the human world.

Don’t rush it. Spend time with your dog. Observe them. Talk to them (yes, talk to them even without a name, they appreciate the sound of your voice!). Try names out loud. See which one resonates with you, and crucially, which one seems to get a positive response from them. You’ll know it when you find it. It might not be on any “top 100” list. It might be utterly unique, or surprisingly common. But it will be their name. And for you and your dog, that makes it the best name in the world. It’s the sound that will make your heart melt a little every time they come running. It’s worth taking the time to get it just right.