Gawwwwd, the thought of it - being trailed everywhere by some slimey-nosed fur-bag for several years with no end in sight...
Reminds me of Tina Turner and her girl thingy. (cat)
Where's your 'heart' Graham? The 'little guy' is curled up just beside me, buried into a bean bag.
His previous owner had no time for him, and all he does is want to please me. (Not in a 'John Clean-Through Vince Cobold' type of way mind.)
Soften up a bit mate. I've travelled extensively during my years in the army, and one of the things I've always been proud of, is the British love of animals. No matter where we went; we rescued and adopted the local 'under dogs'.
In 1993 I was in Bosnia at it's worst and the the British Army rescued 'Compo'; a brown bear that was kept in dismal conditions by a restaraunt. It was called 'Compo' because squaddies fed it 'Composite Rations' to keep it alive.
Unfortunately, it was a major operation to get the bear, transport it to Split Airport where it was flown to Italy to an organisation called lib-bear-ty (obviously a play on words).
Then the press kicked up a stink because Bosnians were murdering each other left right and centre, whilst the British Army rescued a bloody bear.
You just can't win! But I personally felt pleased about the whole business!