All Dogs Go by One Name

We can sometimes spend an unreasonable amount of time choosing a name for our dog. 
We imagine calling it across a beach, or whispering it at home.

Sometimes it’s sentimental. A name that carries memory. Sometimes it’s funny. A private joke.
Sometimes it’s classic. Rex. Buddy. Luna.

And then… it changes.
Somewhere along the way, they become moo-moo. Bubba. Chicken. Sausage.
Something completely unrecognisable.
Something that would make absolutely no sense to anyone else.

Because the name stops being the point.

Across the world, dogs are increasingly given human names: Charlie, Max, Bella, Daisy, Milo... Names that feel like they belong in your contacts list, not just on a tag.

Short names tend to win. One or two syllables. Easy to call. Easy to repeat. Easy to soften.

There’s also something instinctive about the sounds we choose. Dogs respond better to sharp consonants and clear vowels: names like Kiko, Coco, Ziggy, Leo. They cut through noise, land quickly, stick.

But still, none of that really holds.
Because no matter what you name them, it evolves.

And then there’s something else.

The letter. People don’t always realise it, but we gravitate towards certain starting letters. Soft ones. Familiar ones. Letters that feel like they belong in the mouth.

Names starting with L, B, M, and C are consistently among the most popular. Luna. Leo. Bella. Bailey. Milo. Max. Coco. Charlie.

They’re warm. Rounded. Easy to repeat. Harder letters — Q, X, Z — show up less often. Unless someone is trying to be clever. Or make a point.

We see it in our charms too. There are always a few letters that disappear first. The ones people come back for. The ones that mean something.

The Ls go quickly. The Bs. The Ms. Not because they’re rare.
But because they’re common in the names people choose for the ones they love most.
A small marker of identity.

Something to hold onto, even when the name itself starts to shift.

Because here’s the truth: the name you choose is just the beginning. The real name, the one that matters, is built over time. Through routine. Through repetition. Through affection. Through the thousand tiny ways you call them without thinking.

So how do you choose a name for your puppy?
You don’t overthink it. Even though you will.
You pick something that feels good to say.
Something that fits them, or the idea of them.
Something you won’t mind repeating, again and again.

And then you let it go. Because it will change.
It always does.
The way we see it, no matter what you call them, there’s only one name that really sticks:

Bestie.