The Apparitional Gamekeeper turned up the other day with an Apprentice. He is a one year old springer spaniel with a freckled nose and soulful brown eyes — he seems a lovely little dog though doubtless when he has got over his preliminary abashedness at being out in the big world, he will spring back into being a squash ball with paws, which is the basic breed characteristic. Some day he may even learn to retrieve, which at the moment, seems to be puzzling him quite a bit. Miss Best Friend gave him the once-over, and seems to approve — he is of course a puppy of breed. Her good old heart has been grieved and vexed by discovering from her friend the Northern Gentleman that in America, there are things called ‘labrodoodles’. A cross, you understand, between one and the other. A phenomenon precisely comprehended with her general (expansive) category of ‘Change For The Sake Of Change, Undertaken Solely to Upset Those Of Us Who Liked Things The Way They Were’. I sense a letter to the Editor of The Labrador coming on, signed with her kennel name in full.