In March, I found a small pointy-eared black mutt at the local shelter. Apparently a nearby farmer had spotted her on his land all winter, but he didn't feed her in the hopes that she would go away. (I picture Mr McGregor from the Beatrix Potter books). One morning, he went into the barn and found her nursing five puppies. So he brought the little family into the shelter, at least.
By the time we adopted her, all the puppies had found homes. When we brought her home, she was skinny with a dull coat and patchy tail, probably from a combination of poor nutrition, pregnancy and nursing. Five months later, she is glossy, with a tail like a plume, and she rockets happily around the backyard with our basset hound mix, sleeps on the foot of the bed, etc.
She likes to sit on the couch with Mr Rima watching Cubs games and so her name is, yes, Cubby. This is after I talked Mr Rima out of Derosa, Theriot, and Fukudome which IMO sounds like a Japanese porn flick. The name had to be something I was comfortable bellowing out in the backyard with earshot of our extremely conservative Muslim neighbors.