We might just find a new dog parachuting into our lives, courtesy of Barry the Great. She is a nice, ditsy, gentle, five year old black labrador, known to him. She hasn’t had horribly traumatic experiences, but her people are splitting up and both going into rented flats … on the face of it it sounds like we’re what she needs, and she’s what we need. There’s a week of term still to stumble through, but after that, unless there are frightful problems with Miss Kit, I think we may find we have a dog again. Our pals at the Garden Centre have volunteered help, if necessary, with animal sitting.