Mpira

This has to be another dog post. He has amused me so much recently, and even as I type he is here beneath the computer, lying on my feet, licking his... paws, I think. (It could be worse.)

I woke up at 3am the other day and couldn't get back to sleep, so I got up to make myself a hot drink which I then took back to Catharine's room where I wouldn't disturb Richard. I got back upstairs to find the dog curled up on her bed.

He's not allowed on the bed.

He's not allowed in the bedrooms.

He's not, technically, even allowed upstairs. Short of putting up a barbed wire gate (not practical if one gets up in the middle of the night) there's no easy way of keeping him on the ground floor, so we turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the padding of tiny paws on the staircase.

Anyway, I kicked him off. He growled at me rudely. I gave him the teacher look reserved for unruly boys, so he decided to say sorry.

'Sorry' in Mpira language means that he tries to stand on his head in front of me. He's never managed it - as the legs push harder and harder, the neck eventually collapses sideways and he ends up flat on his back, his paws flailing the air in penitence.

I accepted the apology. He settled down on the bedside rug and immediately fell asleep, snoring loudly.

His behaviour this week has ranged from charming (sitting at my side, pressing his body affectionately against my legs) to downright irritating (falling in love with another dog on a walk and following it, deaf to all entreaties to come. The only remedy is to grab him, fasten him onto the lead and yank him quickly away.)

He has also learnt a new trick. After repeated bribery, he will now 'give me five' by holding up a paw, accompanied by an anticipatory grin.

I'm now trying to teach him to dance. He already does this - but only when he wants to. I'm not too hopeful of teaching him to do it on command. Watch this space.