Once upon a time, there was a blogger with a forelock of chemically-enhanced yellow hair who loved nothing more on weekends than to idly peruse the Period Property section of the London Telegraph. She would sip her tea and daydream about which country house she would purchase on the day she received word that an aged and unknown benefactor had bequeathed her his fortune.
She liked this one but it was too big.

She also liked this one, but it was too small.
(Interested? It's a timber frame home built especially for members of the canine persuasion, replete with mortise-and-tenon joints, antique beams and an authentic thatched roof. The antique glass windows are kept in place by -- wait for it -- bone-shaped latches. The house is currently occupied, but the book, "Barkitecture", is available to all.)

Then she saw this one and thought it was just perfect.

I'm giddy with love. Who's going to buy it and invite me over?