The little white dog we rescued from the dog pound about 10 years ago. Very cute little fellow, Chico's his name, but he had a rough start with whoever owned him before. He looks like a papillon/chihuahua mix, maybe, we don't know. But he has a good home now and is a good little boy, expcept will bite any strangers that come in (left over from his early traumatic days), and especially doesn't like workmen - he goes right for their boots! Lucky thing they have them on! Poor little fella is also deathly afraid of loud noises, like thunder, or if the smoke alarm goes off - his nerves are frayed! Post traumatic stress from being handled poorly as a pup. I can't bear thinking of it...
The brown dog is a full breed poodle, believe it or not. I just don't have her trimmed poodle fashion. She's named Sweetie and is a real sweetheart. She's old now, 16 1/2 and we dread the thought of losing her. She's quite deaf, unless we scream, which we don't, and her eyesight is failing. She also has hip arthritis, but is on an NSAID medication for dogs. Poor thing - I couldn't let her suffer, as I know what it's like! She's very gentle and very good, but getting a bit senile now, and starting to puddle in the house now and again. So we have to potty her outside like you would with training a toddler - every couple of hours when we're home. She's ok if we're not here, as she just sleeps all day.
So that's the doggie story. I've had dogs all my life. My parents loved them. We always had two - one big one for outside mostly, and a little one for in the house. So I grew up with them- and lots of other pets, too.
So Henry has a sleepover buddy this weekend, hey? Very sweet, he is, to tolerate a little one like that! I'm glad they got to go out with you and enjoy the pub, too! Mine love a car ride.