Casper, as the lady at the rescue charity had named him, soon found our shed and spent a couple of nights sleeping behind it. There was also quite a nice shelter if he chose to use it, but he preferred to stick with what he knew! He would come out as soon as we went down to see how he was getting along. It was hard to understand how he had become such a happy, sociable boy overnight, but we weren’t about to complain.

Happy, handsome and sociable

‘He’s not staying, and he’s used to living outside, so there is no need to have him getting used to being indoors,’ we reasoned. We had no crate for him to sleep in and he was obviously not house-trained, so he could not be left loose in the house.

All was well until a few days later we had a cold night.

‘We can’t leave him out in this,’ Geoff said. ‘Poor thing will be so cold!’

‘He’s used to it. There’s nowhere suitable indoors for him to sleep and he’ll be fine,’ I replied, firmly but kindly.

Casper spent the night sleeping on our bedroom floor. Our own dogs are not allowed to sleep in the bedroom. Their crates are in the shed and they are perfectly fine in there.

From this subtle start, Casper went on to insinuate himself into the house, learning to sit nicely on command and wait for his dinner politely. He seemed to learn house training by osmosis. I suspected he was on a serious charm offensive. There was no point buying him an expensive crate for the short time he was going to be with us, so he continued to sleep on our bedroom floor.

Making himself at home. Note the prominent wheelchair!

He joined the other dogs when they came down to help me prune the olive trees, gallumphing about terrorising Min or trotting off with Ted on dog adventures like a Canine Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He had an almost permanent grin on his face and the tail that had always been tucked firmly between his legs now wagged constantly as he trotted about.

A week or so later, Geoff went to the UK and I promptly broke my ankle. Friends took Minnow to stay with them and the other three dogs had to spend the week until he came home down in the dog pound. They were very glad to see us when we came home, but they survived very well, to my not very great surprise.

There had still been no interest in Casper, in spite of me sending out videos and photographs of him being adorable, with my broken ankle prominently in shot to let people know how desperate the need was. Sadly, about thirty tiny puppies had been dumped on the charities when whole litters had been found abandoned in the week or two after Casper came to stay. Finding someone who would choose a large, six to seven month old dog when there are small, cute, six week old puppies of both sexes on offer is always going to be a tall order.

Another ad on the charity website

Friends started teasing us, saying it was clear we should keep him, but we already had more than enough to deal with and kept asking about. One possible adoption fell through and that was the only serious interest we had had.

Minnow and Casper decided that they had to keep me company while I was bed-bound in the sitting room. All day, every day, they would snuggle up beside me, each trying to point score in the adorable and indispensable rankings. We put a plastic stool over my plaster cast to stop them trampling my leg and things chugged along in a crowded but pleasant fashion.

By law here, a dog should be micro-chipped if it lives with you for more than two weeks. We kept putting the evil moment off, hoping someone would come forward to give him a home. He also need to be relieved of his reproductive potential PDQ.

Min and Casper keeping me company. The huge lump is my foot under the stool. (I mentioned dogs are not allowed on the furniture, didn’t I?)

Eventually, we realised that Casper had adopted us and that we did not have the heart to keep on resisting. He had spent the first few months of his life all alone and showed signs of separation anxiety from time to time. The thought of uprooting him again when he was so content and settled with us was not a happy one.

And that is why we bit the bullet, had him chipped and snipped and admitted to ourselves what others seemed to know all along: Casper is not going anywhere.

We now have a fourth dog. He is big and growing bigger. He is lollopy and clumsy and far too boisterous to be crashing around a very early middle-aged lady on precarious crutches. He is, however, sweet-natured and playful, totally devoted to Geoff, loves me lavishly and makes us laugh.

Welcome to the mad house, Casper!

He is a big, soppy, cuddly boy