After Otis died, I swore we wouldn’t get a puppy — to much work … lots of training, and they might chew, nip and dig. And who knows how he would interact with the cats.

The Monday after we put Otis down, Billie started searching the Internet for another Rottweiler rescue. Pretty much every one we found that we liked was already adopted our had approved applications. Today, Billie found this six-month-old puppy in Canandaigua, so we decided to drive down and check him out.

I really didn’t expect to come home with a dog today. I figured at best, the shelter would require we apply and then we would have to wait.

That’s not the way it worked with this shelter. We got him today with the promise to have him neutered within 30 days, as well as some promises to keep him as an indoor dog and give him a good home.

He he was such a damn good looking dog and obviously gentle and loving.

After a quick trip to the nearest town (Hopewell) for a dog license, and $95 from the bank account paid to the shelter, we were driving Pachuco home.

Why Pachuco? It’s a bit of home sickness for Southern California. It’s a bit of a homage to Mexican-American culture, which we admire and don’t get enough of in Western New York.

Because of our Southern California roots, we were leaning toward a Spanish name. One night, Pachuco popped out and became the leading candidate, if we found the right dog.

I suppose the name might offend some people — some people think all Pachucos were gang members (not true), and maybe some Mexican-Americans might take it as disrespect for a significant part of their heritage.

For us, it is a sign of respect. Our dog is a handsome young man, full of life and character, of a proud breed, and he carries himself well.

And we figure there won’t be too many dogs in Rochester named Pachuco.

Now, we need to find the right obedience class or trainer, though so far, he’s pretty darn well behaved. He knows, “no,” can sit and has learned his name already (when I was editing this video, his ears perked up every time he heard his name coming from my computer). He needs leash work and has other commands yet to master (down and stay, for example).

He’s does have the sweetest temperament and so far has been good with other people and dogs he’s met.

It’s hard to believe that whoever originally owned this dog didn’t go looking for him when he disappeared (he was picked up as a stray in Canandiagua about six weeks ago). While it’s unfortunate that his tail was docked, it does show somebody intended to take care of him and keep him.

Sure, it hasn’t been a full day with Pachuco yet, but I think once again, Billie found us a good dog.

Thank you to all my friends for your kind words after Otis’s passing.  The sympathy was much appreciated.

Recommended Music: Royal Crown Review: Mugzy’s Move

On the web, you can find out news in the strangest ways.

A friend sent me a link to the MySpace page of Rev. Keith A. Gordon, a music critic and music fan, just because he thought I’d find him interesting.

I looked over the page a bit, and just as I was about to click off, I noticed a headline “Remembering Sean Costello.”

That knocked me to the floor. It implied Sean Costello is dead.

Sadly, he is. Unknown causes just a day before his 29th birthday.

To my ears, over the past 10 years or so, there hasn’t been a better blues musician than Costello. And he never got the recognition he deserved. It’s sad, sad news.

I interviewed Sean a number of years ago. He was quite, nice guy. He loved his music and a deep appreciation for the roots of blues and cherished an authentic, electric sound. I longed to see Sean Costello play live, but he rarely made any west coast trips. He finally did, after I left California. I figured at some point, he would make his way to western New York. That isn’t to be.

My favorite Sean Costello CD: Sean Costello: Cuttin’ In

For the past few months, I’ve been meaning to write a blog post about Otis, a rottweiler my wife adopted from a rescue house.

Now, instead of telling you about my great new friend, I’m writing Otis’ obituary.

We had to put Otis down today. He had bone cancer and it couldn’t be cured.

We discovered the cancer yesterday after he landed awkwardly jumping from a groomer’s table. At first we thought his ankle was sprained, but when the vet took x-rays, he spotted the tumor.

We brought Otis home with the idea of keeping him on pain meds for a while and letting him live out a little longer life, but it was just too hard from him to hop around the house. Over night, the swelling in his leg increased, and we realized he just wasn’t going to get any better.

Otis was my first dog. I never had a dog growing up. As first dogs go, he was a good one. He was already well socialized, well trained and eager to please. He made friends with every one he met. The phrase, “He’s a good dog,” was invented to describe Otis.