oh rolly, rolly, rolly.  you and your bushy tail.  with your hair which gets EVERYWHERE.  the way one ear is always up and the other is just, just…there.  and when someone says the w word {walk, just incase he reads this…}, no matter who or in whatever context…you just won’t leave their ankles.  you and your running around the kitchen at tea-time because our cutlery is reflecting on the ceiling, jumping all over us in the car because our phones/ipods screens are reflecting or jumping on top of me because my sparkly top is reflecting.  you and your wagging, bushy tail {and impatience!} to get up the stairs to jump straight into our bed when you realise one of us is up.  your yapping when anyone, ANYONE, is passing the garden.  your hatred for my brother and we don’t know why?  the way you lick our toes {i know, shoot me now!}.  and the way you love your cuddles with paul on the sofa.  every night.  without fail.

and you’re all ours.

oh roll.