My fiance's least favorite part of walking our new puppy isn't tripping over the leash, carrying around a bag of hot poop or trying to stop Oliver from his putting anything and everything — including cigarette butts, snails and dirt clods — into his little mouth. It's when strangers ask him what the puppy's name is. Daniel is hesitant to answer as he worries it might somehow lead to Oliver being dognapped.

I think it's cute he's under the impression Oliver knows his name.

Because I am a woman of science, and a little bored, I tested my theory that Oliver would come to basically any name if it was delivered in an enthusiastic, chirpy, I-may-or-may-not-have-a-treat-for-you tone of voice — the tone of voice you'd use when praising a five-year-old, or a very drunk 25-year-old, for tying his shoes.

As predicted, Oliver responded to each of the "Top Ten Hottest Baby Names of 2013" — even Mavis.

And while I am in favor of Daniel's protective instinct, I'm unclear how knowing Oliver's name would make it easier to dognap him. It's not as if Oliver's in the habit of demanding a name. He's little and sometimes annoying, but other than that, he's nothing like Rumplestiltskin.

The thing that Daniel's rightly keying into is Oliver's complete trust and faith in the world around him. He's the friendliest furball we've ever met, and if someone were trying to attack me — or steal him — he'd lick his or her face. If he thought he could get string cheese out of it, he'd drive the getaway car.

But what Oliver — if that is his real name — lacks in normal canine qualities, like loyalty, obedience and housetraining, he more than makes up for in adorableness and fearlessness.

It's not just that he isn't afraid of strangers. He isn't afraid of anything.

The only experience that's ever given him pause was his first exposure to a noisy vacuum cleaner, but even that he got over quickly. He hid under the coffee table for a few minutes before snorting as if to announce he would be making a grand entrance, emerging from the table, walking slowly over to the appliance and humping it. I'm told the humping isn't sexual at this age; it's about dominance and play. I admire the way he's literally trying to conquer his fears.

I often wish I were more like Oliver — that I could just chase down my fears and try to have sex with them. Instead I'm cautious and fearful, analytical when I should carefree. Instead of living life and enjoying it, I'm scanning the room to make sure everything is OK.

I've always been this way. In second grade I can remember staying after school with my mom, who'd driven over, and my teacher. Together the two women were going to try to help me over my fear of the jungle gym by giving me all the time I needed — away from my peers — to climb and hang and swing and one day, perhaps, even do a flip off the bars, just like the other kids.

I showed those two dreamers by slipping and knocking out a tooth. Granted it was a baby tooth and they're meant to come out, but there was a lot of blood and a lot of sand. Is there anything more disgusting and more reminiscent of childhood than a mouthful of hot bloody sand?

I've always lacked coordination, which is why I'm afraid of things that require it. Or maybe it's the other way around — I'm uncoordinated because I'm afraid — but the point is I'm afraid of things I'm not good at and I'm not afraid of things I am. Public speaking? No problem. Parasailing? I'd rather stay here on dry, firm land.

My parents are similarly fearful and despite their best intentions to impart an adventurous, lionhearted warrior spirit to their daughters, they instead passed along hay fever, cautiousness and birthing hips.

For this reason I've decided to have Oliver raise my children.

Don't tell Daniel.

Hear more from Alison Rosen on her podcast, "Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend" or on the immensely popular "Adam Carolla Show" podcast. Follow her on Twitter @alisonrosen or visit her website at www.alisonrosen.com. To find out more about Alison Rosen and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.