I named her that because every day was like a Disney movie with her.
She was a black lab mix and the neighbors got her when she was around 6 weeks old. They promptly tied her to the fence and forgot about her. My other neighbors wanted to call the pound but I begged them not to. I told them I would find her a home because the pound would just kill her. They probably had 20 more just like her.
The neighbors fed and watered her. She struggled to get out of the hot sun by crawling under an abandoned car at the end of the six foot chain that was much too short for her. I couldn't find her a home. Then Daddy died. The last thing I did when I was moving was to go over and unhook her from her chain and load her into my van. I took her to my 35 acres that I was going to turn into a dog farm.
Of course she adored me. I gave her freedom and love. It didn't take long to learn that the 35 acres was not big enough to hold her. Even though she had free run she was tearing up everything in sight. She was bringing me neighbors possessions that I had no way of knowing who they belonged to or even of finding out where they came from.
Every day when I went to work she would follow me. The first half mile was a dirt road and then I had to cross a creek (no bridge). Then the road turned to pavement. At this point I would speed up and run off and leave her and she would turn and go back home - or roam the hills as the mood suited her.
One day there was a snow storm. She followed me out as she always did, only when I got to the main road I couldn't speed up because it was too icy. She followed me for about two miles. I was afraid to stop because of the road conditions so I kept going. When I got home that night she wasn't there. It took two days for the weather to settle enough for me to go look for her. I went to the last spot I had seen her and there were two old men talking beside the road. I asked if they had seen her. "Sure have," they replied. "She's over across the creek."
I looked across the creek and it was too icy for me to drove over there so I got out of my van and I yelled, "DISNEY!" I heard a crashing, thundering noise coming down the hill behind me. Disney was barking like mad and racing through the brush like it wasn't even there to get to me. She was thrilled that I had found her and we went home and resumed her hectic life.
The next time it snowed I kept her in the house when I went to work. There are not words to describe the scene of destruction that I came home to. I opened the door and she was sitting in the middle of a pile of debris (formerly my beloved possessions) a foot high, looking at me as if to say, "welcome home." I was so upset I had to close the door. I put her outside and I didn't look back in that room for 3 days. I knew I would kill her if I did.