It’s Christmas Eve and I’ve stolen Tiramisu from my sister. She’s a 14-pound pug, part bat, part gargoyle, so squat and wheezy you want to scoop her up and squeeze her like an accordion. Hyper-alert, with a quizzical frown splashed across her face, she’s the canine version of Maggie Smith, who always looks slightly alarmed. Tiramisu means “pick me up” …
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