Snowballs are Snowballs

A new dog walked up to the house last week. He slightly resembled the Taco Bell chihuahua so I called him Pedro. He's a cute cream-colored little dog built like a jack russel or a feist except with a tail. His only annoying habit is treeing our three-legged declawed cat (George), but other than that he's not so bad to have around, and it's kind of fun to have a dog named Pedro to greet when you come home at night. 

After Pedro had been with us a few days, his owner pulled up in the driveway. Apparently Pedro had a home about two miles down the road. The owner let us know that Pedro's name was not Pedro, but Snowball. According to Anita Beth, Pedro did not want to go home. Poor Pedro. 

Anyway, Pedro came back to us again a few days ago. He slept on the front porch last night. This morning on the way to school, Gracie reminded me that Pedro is not our dog, and she told me that his name is not Pedro. 

"What's his name, Dad?" she asked. Apparently, she couldn't remember what the neighbor had said.

I told her that his real name is Snowball.

"No, Dad," she said, in her usual corrective tone. "His name is not Snowball. Snowballs are snowballs and names are names and dogs are dogs."

I couldn't have said it better myself.