As life would have it, George moved from our house to our friends’. It actually seemed to work very well for everyone involved. I was struggling with medical physical issues and George needed someone who would be there, our friends had just lost their own dog and wanted a little creature for their patch of land. It was a good fit.
That, however, was last year. Medical issues or not, I was kicked out of the puppy-choosing committee and Lovely Hubby took over. Not long after, we got a puppy; Norman.
Norman was (and is) incredibly adorable. You can’t see him and not want to kiss him or pet him or hug him. I was in love in seconds.

Ocean was more cautious than I was getting to know him but she’s fallen for his charms as well.
He might be little, but he’s a trouble maker. From toilet paper to slippers, nothing is safe around the house. And if you are eating a banana, get ready to share…
It is hard to get upset at him when he’s just such a happy, little puppy. All he wants to do is spend time with us and love us. How can I resist that? The truth is, I’m soft putty in his hands (ah…paws). And he’s getting away with murder.
He jumped up at Hubby one too many times and, horror of all horrors, made him spill a cup of his beloved tea.
That was the end. Good Brit that he is, Hubby drew a line.
We start puppy school next week.