George and Mummy often spends the morning at Juice Baby together – just us the two of them sitting there for the morning when I am off for a big walk.
Here he shows he has rhythm!
Many would comment how cute he is and always asked Mummy what breed he is and she often had to explain she wasn’t sure as he was a street dog from Hungary. But she had his DNA tested and the results showed he is a Maltese, Shih-Tzu and Yorkshire terrier cross. He definitely has physical characteristics of all three.
After awhile, Mummy got tired of saying all that. He has been called many names – “Hungarian refugee” and “Yorkie-poo-poo” (when they thought he was Yorkshire terrier but not sure if he was a Yorkie poo). Now she tells everyone he was an accident! Some people laughed and some people say “accidents” are the best.
Then one day, a man asked, “How many were there in the litter?”
And for the first time Mummy realised there could be other Georges still in Hungary. He must have been part of a litter. Did the others survive? Wonder where they are. Can you imagine more than one George?!?!?!
May’s comment: Never stopped to think about it before but to think how when George was born, he must have been part of a litter. Were they born in a home or were they born in hiding – somewhere in the open fields, or under growth.
It is true he is a Hungarian refugee, brought to us by the wonderful Hungary Hearts Dog Rescue who saved him from a Killing Station, took care of him and only because I asked Hilda about another rescue who was really cute (Poppy) – she asked if I would foster Bobo (as he was known) and after hesitating, I almost didn’t. It must have been fate because his foster plans fell through and I ended getting him.
Yes, he was for a long time a Yorkie-poo-poo. He looks an awful lot like a regular size Yorkshire terrier – size and colouring but with something else – poodle or no poodle, we couldn’t tell. And he was a part of the doodle meets in Hyde Park so we made him an honorary member we just say he’s a Yorkie-poo-poo.
He’s been called “Rascal,” “Terror,” “Lover Boy,” “Little Man” all for the right reasons. And he is truly an “Accident” – an amazing accident that was meant to be. 🙂
As we lit our third candle of joy yesterday, I give thanks for all the joy he had brought to our lives. Yes, a rascal, yes, he’s trying, yes, he barks with no reason and yes, he drives me mad with his squirrelling – but also never thought I was capable of loving another as much as I can love him.