As I stepped inside the room, I was greeted by a chorus of excited yaps.
‘All right, calm down!’ I laughed as a flurry of puppies raced toward me.
My nephew Stefan and his girlfriend Ellen had just welcomed a litter of four black pug puppies, and I couldn’t resist popping in to meet them.
Among the flurry of wagging tails, the smallest pup collided with her siblings and tumbled to the ground.
I scooped her up, cradling her close to my chest.
‘That’s the runt of the litter — she’s yours if you want her,’ Stefan said.
‘I wish!’ I sighed, staring into her gorgeous brown eyes.
I was under strict orders from my husband, Trevor, not to get attached to the pups.
Trevor and I had two little ones, Cai, six, and Nia, five — and along with our four-year-old pug, Toby, and seven-year-old Chihuahua, Lola — we had a full house.
That evening, I told Trevor about the runt, hoping he might change his mind.
‘Three dogs will be too much work, I’m sorry,’ he said.
'I think she has dwarfism'
But a month later, on Valentine’s Day, there was a knock at the door.
‘Looks like your gift has arrived,’ Trevor said, looking out the window.
I opened the door to find Stefan, carrying the tiny pug.
‘Oh, you didn’t!’ I gasped.
‘She’s so tiny,’ cooed Nia as she stroked her.
‘Even smaller than some of your dollies,’ I replied, suddenly realising that Dolly was the perfect name for our pint-sized pup.
Cai and Nia were besotted and quickly started carrying Dolly around the house.
And she won Toby and Lola over too.
Dolly didn’t let her small stature stop her joining in with the rough and tumble.
She zipped around the house, forever getting under our feet.
But thankfully, we could always hear her coming, thanks to the jangle of the bell on her kitten collar, which was the only one that would fit her!
By the time Dolly was eight months old, I noticed she’d barely grown.
I put her on the scales and found she weighed just 1kg, the same as a bag of sugar.
‘Toby was fully grown by this point,’ I said to Trevor, frowning.
‘She’s just waiting for her growth spurt,’ he replied.
But I wasn’t convinced.
I asked Stefan if he could get in touch with the owners of Dolly’s littermates, so I could see how they were getting on.
One by one, photos trickled through of Dolly’s siblings, each one fully grown.
The next day, we took her to the vet for a check-up.
‘I think she has dwarfism,’ he announced, as soon as he took one look at her.
Then he explained how dogs with the condition were prone to health problems, and said that we should keep an eye on her.
‘Dogs with dwarfism don’t usually live for more than five years,’ he said. ‘But for now, she’s healthy.’
We were determined to make every moment count.
As Cai and Nia were still young, we explained that Dolly was going to stay a puppy forever.
Now, Dolly is a year old and is as big as she will ever grow.
I think she must be the UK’s smallest pug!
People often stop us during walks to make a fuss of her, and they’re baffled when I explain that she isn’t actually a puppy.
She’s still a troublemaker though. Recently she stayed in a kennel while we went on holiday, but managed to slip through the bars, making a dash for freedom.
Even though Dolly might not live for long, we’re determined to give her the best life possible.
She might be a small dog, but she’s already left a ginormous pawprint on our hearts.
Rebecca Diponio, 45, Dolgellau, Snowdonia