The importance of being Ernest

We have a new member of the family. He's a small black lab mix, come all the way from Taiwan to be adopted. When we adopted him yesterday, they told us he had been adopted first about a year ago by people who wanted a puppy. Two days ago, instead of returning him to the no-kill, doggie rescue people, the jerks dropped him off at a kill shelter! Luckily, he's chipped and the doggie rescue folks rescued him before he was euthanized. When we adopted him yesterday, they were calling him Turnip! (Shades of Black Adder...)

So, we have determined that his name is going to be Ernest. And he's a Very Good Dog.

EDIT:
Apparently, he's also a Very Clever Dog. He knows how to open doors. The pocket doors are less than 2 seconds for him to open. And now he's figured out how to open the bedroom door. The one with the doorknob that turns. Yeah. He can somehow open a latched door with a doorknob. Oh boy.