He broke my big toe, ate the curtains and don't even ask what he did to the children's soft toys. But I couldn't help falling in love with the world's naughtiest sausage dog
By Matt Whyman Published: 01:56 BST, 24 August 2012 | Updated: 01:57 BST, 24 August 2012 e-mail 45 View comments Downstairs in the utility room, our new puppy, Hercules, was howling. This was getting ridiculous. How could something so tiny make such a noise for so many hours? According to my wife, Emma, this was ‘sleep-training’ and she was refusing to go downstairs to deal with it. But I couldn’t take it any longer. The last time I’d looked at my bedside clock, it was four in the morning, and I couldn’t say how much time had passed since then as I’d placed a pillow over my head in a bid to block out the noise. For the first half of the night, we’d had a steady stream of visits and complaints from our four children. The younger two, Frank and Honey, eight and six, were the first to shuffle in, asking if they could play on their Nintendo DS consoles until the puppy decided to call it a night. Author Matt Whyman with the family hound, Hercules" class="blkBorder" /...