WARNING
If you aren't partial to a strawberry blond, fox-faced bundle of fluff then stop reading now.
After ooh-ing and aah-ing over Pinterest puppies for a shameful number of months, the boy and I decided that the only way to cure this idle time wasting was to bite the bullet and investigate actually buying a puppy. However, living in a two bedroom flat in Zone 2 (London) isn't the ideal puppy setup, especially as our flat is also occupied by my sister, occasionally her lovely boyfriend and crucially our two gorgeous cats.
Slightly off topic but remember these guys...
Well they are now...
So as not wanted to disturb our existing furry friends too much, we decided to look at buying a Pomeranian, which are notably a small breed, usually have a gentle personality (i.e. they hardly ever yap or bark) and are generally indoor dogs (i.e. won't require three hour daily walks).
Now I'm not usually a believer in fate and my life so far has not really advanced any such belief, but in this case everything seemed to slot together rather perfectly. As soon as we entered the home of the breeder, one long limbed beauty who had been playing amongst his siblings ran up to us, climbed onto my lap and licked me like he'd known me all his life...
and the rest, as they say, is history.
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