I had the best phone call last week, perched up against the kitchen window as our mobile reception is so bad out here in the Wilds. Harper had her babies. Oh, our little girl, the puppy we socialised for a year has puppies of her own. Six boys and one girl. The CEO of the charity was beside herself, we laughed and called each other granny. I cried when I put the phone down. Pride, missing the sweet little chocolate lab who shared a bond with my eldest son. Because the charity have had to close their waiting list to those in real need of an assistance dog. And now there are seven. Good girl Harper, good girl.