I learned a new word last week.

Actually, it's an old word with a new pronunciation: Puppeh, as in, this canine is so cute it's drained me of the ability to pronounce words in an articulate fashion.

The culprit? An 11-pound ball of snuggles, sloppy kisses and spunk named Leo. If any dog is fitting of the "puppeh" title, it's certainly this cairn terrier-chihuahua mix. Leo sports a genuine Coach collar, naps on a miniature down comforter and brings his doggy life jacket to play dates - just in case.

We met by chance. Leo and I both arrived as guests at my brother's home Thursday. I crashed at the townhouse following a doctor's appointment. Leo arrived a few hours later after seeing his owner, Greg, to the airport.

"Look who's here," called my sister-in-law Kim, as she opened the door and introduced Leo to his new digs. His tiny toenails clicked across the kitchen floor and into the living room.

"He's so cute," I squealed, as we took turns scratching behind his ears. Within minutes, he was preening for us, high-stepping across the carpet.

"What a good puppeh!" Kim cooed.

Leo rested his head on his paws, letting the light catch his enormous brown eyes before shifting his line of sight to the nearby treat canister.

"I suppose we can give him one of those," said Kim, heading over to the jar.

Leo's tail swished back and forth.

She opened the carton and offered him an algae-colored bone.

Check and mate, I imagined Leo saying as he accepted the morsel.

We spent the next hour sorting through the pup's bag of goodies - a stuffed pink daiquiri, tiny tennis balls and a pair of doggles, that's right, goggles for dogs.

"Greg says his eyes get dried out in the boat," Kim explained.

I looked at Leo, who seemed to shrug. What can I do?, I imagined him saying, I'm a puppeh.

For the next two days, we were inseparable. Leo and I chased each other around the house, snoozed in a sunbeam and fell asleep together during "Ironman."

Before we parted on Saturday, we decided to take one last walk together. Kim and I pulled on jeans and sweatshirts to break the morning chill and stepped outside. Leo trotted ahead, scouting out signposts, while we gabbed away.

At the mile-and-a-half mark, our conversation slowed along with our fearless leader. Leo flopped on the grass, panting.

"Oh no, are you tired?" cooed Kim. "Do you think we should carry him?," she added, with a hint of concern creeping into her voice.

Leo looked hopeful, and me? Well, I'm a born sucker.

"Come on, Leo," I said, scooping him into my arms.

As we started out again, he turned, grinning, and licked my face.

"Good puppeh," I said. "Good puppeh."