Rory was (I hate writing about him in past tense) a little white and sandy coloured Shih Tzu, who brought joy to all our lives.
I wasn’t supposed to have Rory, it was obviously just meant to be. My sister and friend were buying a puppy and I went with them. When the gate flew open, the puppies all came bounding in to the room. But at the very back was the runt of the litter, who tripped, did a roll and splatted on the floor. From that moment I knew I had to have him. Someone had already claimed him, but lucky for me they didn’t show up to collect him and the rest as they say is history...

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