We'd just finished dinner and one of my daughter walked out into the garden. She spotted what she thought was a rat disappearing around the corner of the house and came rushing inside. It was decided it couldn't possibly be a rat, but nobody really wanted to go and find out. Eventually, an investigation was gingerly undertaken and what we found was a tiny weeny puppy.
We were puzzled as to how it could have possibly managed to climb the step at the gate and went to check. On the floor, just inside the gate was an open plastic bag with rice and chicken in it. The puppy had been pushed through the bars and the food left as an incentive not to leave.
Hub was adamant we weren't going to keep another dog - we already had two - so it was decided that next morning I'd let everyone know we had a puppy that needed a good home.
The next morning, after I get the kids ready for school, I tell them to keep an eye on the puppy (Nina, one of the other dogs wasn't too happy about having it around) whilst I got ready. A moment later I hear them trying to decide on a name. They agreed on the name Daisy.
That was six years ago. Needless to say, we never did find a home for her and she has been here ever since.