By Christmas 2008, our canine colossus weighed 18 stone.A friend suggested he might be a contender for the Guinness Book Of Records, but we had other things to think about: Christie had discovered that she was pregnant again.
He was putting on more than a pound a day and he bounded around like Bambi, skittering on our wooden floors and hurling himself at everything he fancied, including us humans.
His displays of affection could leave you pinned temporarily against a wall or a piece of furniture.
Eventually he outgrew the single mattress we placed there for him and preferred instead the comfort of our king-sized bed — sprawling between us like some over-indulged prince while we spent half the night clinging onto the edges.
But soon we encountered another challenge as George reached doggie puberty.
Whenever he could, he placed it between his paws and pressed it so he could hear the tune.