Right, Said Ted

In winter, 2007, a Kerry blue terrier puppy arrived at our house and ran straight across the surface of our swimming pool, sinking like a stone to the bottom without even the slightest attempt at, say, a dog-paddle.

Despite the fact I was wearing a brand new pair of patent leather ankle boots, I jumped in and saved him.

The boots were unharmed but I’m not so sure about Ted. He likes nothing more than

sitting quietly at home holding hands with a human or staring at the rock where he once smelled a rat.

In times of stress, he prefers to be picked up and carried like a medieval prince, and if pressed he will eat dog food but prefers chicken and cheese, although has to sniff the bowl, turn around three times, walk away and then walk back again before he will eat it.