Ours is called Tyler's Rest. Very bittersweet story, for any dog lovers out there. I grew up only 3 miles from where we live now. That was down in one of the suburban tracts "in town". After college, 6 years in NYC, a wedding and a small business opening AND closing, we wanted a place 5 minutes to town, private, 5 acres or more, water (stream or pond) and 3 car garage - all in our price range. Realtor says pick any two features. After 2 months of looking, a house for sale by owner that meets all criteria/w3tcompact/icons/shocked.gif, move in, get a dog, have a baby, life is good. Thats the sweet part.
Now for the bitter part. The dog we got was going to be abandoned for the 3rd time to owners who couldn't/wouldn't give him proper care and treatment. His name was Tyler (Tyler Taylor - of course we didn't name him/w3tcompact/icons/eyes.gif). That dog was always psycho from previous treatment, but he loved me. Wouldn't ever leave my side and loved to run and play once he began to trust us. During hunting season, while we were at my sister's house for Thanksgiving, we left a dog/house sitter with strict instructions that Tyler was NEVER to be out of hand while he was doing his business. We have a cable run, and I told the sitter to grab the collar and not let go until the cable was firmly attached. Yes, he got away anyway/w3tcompact/icons/mad.gif. He never returned to the house. When we got home, I found him shot through the heart/w3tcompact/icons/sad.gif by a deer slug ON OUR PROPERTY! The hunter had set up a deer stand deep in our woods and shot him as he (probably) chased deer. We had him cremated. When we got another dog the next month (that we still have and love), we strapped the box of ashes on our new dog and he spread Tyler's remains around what is now Tyler's Rest. And that's the "rest" of the story.