The resurrection, something I should be familiar with having been taught by nuns. Everyday is a surprise and yesterday was no exception. Having spent most the night tossing and turning, dreaming and thinking about Muttley, being in a general state of mourning and close to tears all day, I went for my evening wander through the village with the dogs. Nikos a villager came over very excited to tell me that it was not Muttley who had died but another little dog. One of my friends (not Greek) very rudely suggested it may have been due to my misunderstanding of the Greek language, something I assured her was not the case. Anyway it was typical of Chinese whispers in a Greek village. I am pleased to say Muttley lives on and will be out walking with us and the gang on Tuesday morning.

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