Buuuuut they did.
I know this because on our walk the other morning, I heard a lady yelling my name. I thought it was one of my buddies, out and about with their very own dogbaby, just saying hi to me. But this yelling was not the friendly, get-your-friend's-attention kind of yell. It was much more of a would-you-just-stop-doing-that-bad-thing-you're-doing kind of yell. I was being good, so I knew it wasn't meant for me. It was meant for a dog—named Gret(t)a.
That makes five dogs named Gretta that I've had the pleasure to meet and/or hear about. And the third time I thought I was being busted by a stranger who was just yelling at his or her ill-behaved (though well-named) pooch.
I feel pretty good about it. I've joined the ranks of other ladies with disyllabic depression-era names that have become popular among pet owners: the Hazels, Rubies, Daisies, and Betties. It's not bad company.
Also, there's this precious book that I found while I was working at YOLK last Tuesday. It's about a couple of doxies who fall in love. One is super long and one has a super cool name.
Don't worry. You're not a bad person. The innuendo is there and it is hilarious. Feel free to apply it wherever you feel it fits.
And for good measure, here's one of my dog with a human name.