Just for Christmas, not for life

Really enjoying looking after Milo whilst our neighbours spend Christmas in France.

Twice daily walks could be a chore, but actually offer fresh air and exercise when we would otherwise be snuggling in front of telly. In particular he took us around the fantastic wilderness of Aston's Eyot, so close to us but we needed a dog to show us the way.

And look at him! - he's so friendly and cuddly, how could it be other than a pleasure?

We're also learning about the dog-walkers' fraternity, a whole new world: kind offers of extra bags when we ran out (I only brought one, schoolboy error apparently!), and friendly chat whilst our respective pooches chase and sniff each other.

I'm also understanding things from another perspective - how difficult it can be to keep an enthusiastic doggy out of a bike path, and how tempting to leave the stinky poo behind, pretending it's out of the way or just a little one or whatever.

Tempted? Yes… but: we have a small house, a busy schedule, a baby on its way - plus an aversion to stomach-churning dog-meat and the daily torture of handling steaming turds. And what would the Foxy say?

No, attractive as it is, I'm afraid that for us, a dog will not be for life, just for Christmas.