I named King as he from the moment we met him, he just recognizes that no dog is his equal, an attitude he still has at almost 14. He's getting pretty wobbly the last couple of months, but his appetite is still great and he seems to be enjoying his last days. Molly was a name my mother, who lived with me then, picked out beforehand, as we knew we would be getting a male and a female dog. She's even frailer than King is at this point. I know time is getting short. I get upset just thinking about it.
My last dog Gus, well, the name just seemed to fit him. He was almost named "Popeye", for the overly thick forelegs he had, and because his eyes would bulge in and out when he would chew on stuff. We decided on Gus, short and to the point.
Blackie, one of my dogs before Gus was named by a friend of mine, who owned her mother, a black Lab, and I owned her sire, Farfel, my Beagle. My other dog was named Joe, short for his papers name, Lemon Joe. I didn't like the Lemon, so I dropped it, it fit too well, as he had health issues his entire life. Only dog I ever really paid any real money for, ironic he should be the biggest dud I ever had, health wise.
Blackie's daddy was Farfel, a kind of jewish noodle. A name that totally didn't fit as he was anything but soft. Almost as self confident as King is, except much more tolerant of puppy nips. He would do, and did, about anything to defend one of his friends, regardless of the size of the dog threatening them or him. The biggest Beagle I have ever seen at almost 40 rock hard pounds, he started out the runt of runts, about half the size of his sister when I picked him out at 3 months of age. There was something about him, even then he thought he was a tough guy, that wouldn't come for about a year, after he lost a battle in the backyard with the biggest German Shepherd I have ever seen. Odd thing was, after she tore him up pretty good, they became good friends. One day, there she was lying down in the back yard with him.