The result is Henry’s Biography: A Small Dog’s Tale. Outwardly, he’s a very sweet, lovable dog but, reading this, we find out he has his acerbic side and quite a sharp tongue.

He’s also not above a little play-acting, it seems, to prolong cuddles and attention.

I knew he had a difficult time with Saffy, our other dog, who was not happy when Henry arrived in the house. She thought getting another dog was the worst idea we ever had.

Truthfully, I think I’d better admit I wrote the lens. I’m sorry to disappoint you and it was very bad of me to lie about it.

I often make up remarks that I think one or other dog is making. Like when we give them dog food they don’t like and say to them, “Try it, it’s nice” and “Yummy, yummy, in your tummy”.  They sit there with stony, cynical expressions on their faces. I’m sure they’re saying, “If it’s that nice, you’d eat it yourself.” Or when I have the flea spray out and call them to me. They look at me and seem to say, “You’ve got to be joking. We can see and smell the nasty spray.”

Even if I did write Henry’s Biography myself, it’s still a fairly accurate story of his life although he might not hold all the opinions that I put in his mouth. He looks like he does, though.

Saffy, aged about 5 years, running as usual

Next month Saffy, my springer spaniel, will be 12 years old. Springers live for about 14 years and she’s already looking like an old dog. Her face has a lot of  grey hairs among the red-brown. She’s got arthritis in her hips and can’t jump into the car anymore. She can put her front paws on the seat and then I have to hoist up her back end.

When she was younger, she could run for hours. We used to go to Westonbirt Arboretum where we would spend maybe 2 or 3 hours. Saffy ran the whole time in huge circles around us as we walked and looked at the trees and views. When we were ready to go, she’d jump in the car and sleep for the 20 minutes it took for us to get home. Then she’d be ready to run and play again.

She has always been crazy about balls but never much interested in food so I had to use a ball to train her. I wouldn’t throw it till she sat or came or whatever. If we forgot to take a ball when we took her for a walk, she’d keep sitting expecting us to produce it and throw it. I can’t tell you how much emotional blackmail that inflicted on us. She did  train us not to forget the ball, though!

Nowadays, I never take the ball with me and she walks quite slowly. She hardly ever runs just for the joy of it. I feel so sad when I see her plodding along and remember the way she would run and run and run. My partner still takes a ball when he takes her out but she will only chase it a couple of times, then she won’t bring it back but carries it around in her mouth instead.

When she was younger she never bothered about the weather. She didn’t care if it was pouring with rain, snowing, blowing a gale or extremely hot. Whatever the weather was doing, she still enjoyed racing around. Now she doesn’t like the cold, I expect it makes her arthritis worse. She hated going for a walk when we had the snow in February and would take a short cut then stand next to the path home rather than following me and our other dog, Henry, a cavalier King Charles spaniel.

She still seems happy enough and contented. I don’t think she is in any real pain either. She eats well and wags her tail enough to convince me she still enjoys life – just at a slower pace than before.

You can read about the time Saffy was in danger of losing her front leg or even her life when she was just a year old in The Saga of Saffy’s Paw.