It was a winter morning and I was about six or seven years old. My Auntie was looking after us because my Mum and Dad were out on a secret mission. When I spotted the Land Rover winding it's way down from the rocks towards our house, I put on my wellies and ran out to meet them. My Dad stepped out of the car and from the inside pocket of his Barbour jacket produced Bertie, the sweetest black and white bearded collie pup in the world. We have loads of photos of Bert, but none in a coat pocket.