Lulu and Woffle

I got Woffle five months ago, from a pig farmer in Herefordshire who had some puppies for sale. I originally wanted a girl called Tallulah, but there were only boys left, and I realised that not everything in my life has to be feminine. I already have two daughters; Woffle’s my little boy.

He’s definitely not a lapdog, even though he’s only small. He’s always running heroically up to great danes in the park. I don’t think he realises quite how small he is. He has obviously got a sense of humour, and his naughtiness makes me laugh. When he’s been digging holes in the garden, he comes in with mud all over his face, like a child who’s just eaten chocolate. And he has this habit of following children down the pavement, particularly children in pushchairs. Their mothers are usually rather freaked out.