Hector skidded along the floor, dropping to his feet in front of a small, rather scruffy looking dog. George hurried to keep up with him.
"Hector, you mustn't run so very fast," George said. "Your poor old uncle cannot keep up." He looked at where the dog was playfully licking the boys face, and smiled fondly.
"Uncle George, can I keep him?"
George raised an eyebrow. "He probably belongs to someone else, Hector. And your Mama would not be pleased."
"She likes Mickey and Minnie," Hector pointed out.
"Goldfish are quite different pets than dogs," George said. He kneeled beside Hector, looking more closely at the dog. He had a sash around him - a rather familiar looking sash. His brow furrowed. The dog was familiar too. How very odd.