All ruff and ready to share alike

LIFE is far from ruff when you’re a dog, especially if your name is Harlem.

Almost eight years ago now, I took up adoptive-dad duties for my partner’s pooch.

And it’s fair to say since that first day I put a lead on him and took him to the beach, our relationship has blossomed.

That's not to say we haven’t had our fair share of arguments.

I still haven’t forgiven Harlem for dribbling on that last piece of pizza in the box, making it inedible for anyone other than himself.

And I’m sure he hasn’t forgiven me for the time I promised to bring him Schmackos ... and forgot.

Yet every time I go over to Holly’s parents’ house I know Harlem’s happy face will come running towards me when I walk through the front door.

It’s those little moments that can make the worst day feel 100 times better.

As I was sitting on the couch last night watching some garbage TV, my mate Harlem came over to me and sat at my feet. It got me thinking — we really do have a lot in common. We are both starting to get a little bit long in the tooth, yet we both act like we are young. We both have an appetite that just won’t end. Honestly, I rate myself as a pretty big eater. I’ve been known to knock over a family-sized pizza and a tub of ice cream in my prime. But I think Harlem gives me a run for my money. He’ll have his dinner, come inside and then start looking at what else is to eat. If I’m at the table, he will rest his head on my lap and wait for something to fall off my fork. If that doesn’t happen I will get the puppy dog eyes until I can slip him a treat under the table (sorry Heather and Buzz!).

We both also like to steal a slice of ham out of the packet when no one else is looking.

I was never much of an animal person until I met Harlem.

As a kid, I didn’t have a pet. Well, I did have a couple of goldfish and a dog that lasted a couple of days before Mum took him back on me.

But Harlem’s got me converted.

I count down the days until I get to see him and always make sure Holly sends me a picture or two of him when she gets to see him and I don’t.

Life certainly is better with a dog in your life.

It’s even better when that pooch is Harlem.