When I first saw Hannah (as an 8 week old puppy) she had just woke up from a nap. I picked her up and was given sweet gentle puppy kisses. As soon as I got her home she became the *puppy from hell*. I would walk around the kitchen with her teeth firmly attached to the hem of my jeans. Eventually we referred to her as *our last dog*, knowing that we wouldn't survive another Hannah. Eventually she turned into a dog we could live with but it took years.

Just a forewarning that beneath those endearing puppy ways may lurk .......another Hannah....