It’s a bit of a problem as you get older. Your bodily functions seem to slip into some sort of ‘uncontrollableness’. There is, certainly less control.

Sure, I could be talking about humans but, in this case, I am talking about dogs. And, more specifically, Rufus. Unfortunately, after eating, he has a small problem with farting. And the thing about dog farts is that they are extremely unpleasant for us humans.

And so, we’re sitting, watching the second season of Fame, the TV series, which F really loves and which is why, for Christmas, he bought himself the DVDs. And Rufus is lying by me and snoring. Heavily. And then, stealthily, like some sort of secret, I smell the most rancid, sharp and disgusting odour. I know, immediately, what it is. And I know it’s because he is old. Still, it is quite an awful thing.

I exclaim on how horrible it is and F just says ‘poverino’ until he, too, smells it and exclaims himself how rank it is. I suggest getting the spray from the bathroom. He says that he will get it. He returns from the bathroom and starts spraying. But it’s not the ‘fresh air’ aerosol that I was expecting. Oh no. For him, not the simple ordinary smell but an expensive perfume that he gave me because he has plenty, from his own company.

I just couldn’t stop laughing. I would never have thought of that nor, as in the past I have had to buy the stuff, would have used something that was normally so expensive. But to F it’s not like that. And, I must say, it worked a treat and was considerably better at disguising the foul odour than any household spray!

And then there’s Dino. Dino will be, as I have probably mentioned before, one of the sweetest dogs I have ever had. Daily he becomes more lovable. Most people (including F) love Rufus more because, well, he’s a grand old man and so very well behaved. Dino, in comparison, is all hair and bigger and more excitable (understandably – he’s only 18 months old!). However, I can see that, as he matures and mellows and becomes less excitable and ‘jumpy’ he will be wonderful.

Except for a couple of things. The main one of which is his propensity to lick. And I mean lick everything. It’s just a quick ‘slurp’, not constant licking. But he slurps everything. Clothes, shoes, hands, other dogs – almost as if, by taste, he can tell what everything is. And I really don’t know how to stop him. It’s like a really bad habit which I don’t know how to break. The command ‘Stop licking!’ often shouted with a ‘bloody’ thrown in between the words has no effect as the slurp has already taken place and, so, he just looks at you with that querying eye, head slightly to one side, not really understanding anything.

Gradually, stuff is being left here by F. It’s not that it’s permanent, you can see that, and I know that anyway but it’s here all the same. Last night, early, he got some guy to move the stuff he had packed. I went to the new flat to help with the delivery to the flat. And, as an aside, of course, everything will fit and everything will be OK as I said it would.

After, I drove him back to the old flat and he had a bath. As we were about to leave he said he would bring some old clothes that he could wear when we were sat watching a film or the TV so that Dino, when doing the slurp thing, wouldn’t slurp on the good stuff that he is wearing to work, today.

I laughed. The ‘old stuff’ included a very nice cashmere jumper, light grey.

However, he wore it and Dino slurped and it was no problem. F played with Dino most of the remainder of the night, after we had got back from our pizza, the first time we have eaten out since before Christmas!

When in bed, F said, just before we went to sleep – ‘I love Dino’. And, yes, Dino, in spite of the hair and the excitableness and the slurping, is, in fact, a very lovable dog and, in particular, when he is sitting by you, hoping to be stroked, he has this endearing habit of resting his head, sideways, not chin down, on your legs, looking up with his big green eyes.

But, in any case, I was pleased by his line of ‘I love Dino’.