News about Christine Collins

I'm juggling a tiny brown Bear on my lap as I write. My chocolate labrador puppy is a chubby pile of velvet fur and huge, wet almond eyes that make him sad even though he isn't being spoilt. Since his arrival, he's torn apart my furniture and demolished my clothes, ignoring the endless toys and expensive dog bed. I've bought him in favour of chewing my trainers and sleeping on my chaise longue. When he's not torturing the cat, pulling up gladioli in the garden, or shredding my Temperley dresses, he is camped beside his red, heart-shaped Le Creuset bowl, demanding more food. Despite this, I'd do something for those soft rabbit ears and squidgy puppy bean-toes.