Sparky, running to us during a recall at the Camp.
Today is a special day for Sparky: it's St Patrick's Day, and unlike us, (and many Americans) he can legitimately claim to be Irish.
I've written before about how he came to us from Ireland but if you haven't heard, head on over to my author blog and read his story.
"Sparky needed a home and needed one fast—he’d had to spend his first night in England in a car."
Good thing we found each other. He's enjoying some corned beef right now. Well, it's actually a bone, but he doesn't know what corned beef is any more than I do.
Also, I don't think actual Irish people eat that anyway.