Happy Anniversary Sherlock

 

Six years ago today, Rick and I were driving to the SPA in Perpignan to adopt a middle-aged dog named Mila. She wasn't there, but we left with a three-month old puppy half Yorkie, part Jack Russell and myriad other breeds in our arms.

His gratitude manifested itself by snuggling and throwing up in the car. 

His name had been Spider, but we changed it to Sherlock, reflecting my mystery writing credentials and the fear of spiders that a good friend whom he would visit has.

He walked into our flat.  I had a tiny black stuffed animal, Thé Noir, and for lack of any other toy, gave it to Sherlock who ran to the other side of the bed to an area that would become his horde.

At this point he had established his place in our heart where he rests today.