No, no, no and no.

We can't have another dog.
A. We can't afford it.
B. She's tiny so she'd squeeze out of every space in the fence.
C. Ali would have a fit.
D. She's a hunting dog so she'd be howling all winter to join the packs that litter the forests that surround us.
E. There's no room in the skulldoggery for another bed
F. She's the size of a rabbit and at least two of our dogs were looking at her as if she was lunch.
G. and so on, and so on.

This young puppy squeezed its way under our gate this morning. I've been all around the village to find out who owns it. No-one recognises it. I've put up posters and this afternoon I'll take her to the vet to see if she has a microchip telling us who she belongs to.

In the meantime she's in the workshop and is shouting her head off. At least she's safer than she would be on the road, alone, in 32 degree heat.

As it's the holiday season it's quite possible that some bastard hunter has dumped her before going off on his holidays. We'll keep you posted.