I like dogs, really, but not when they upstage me

I’M TETCHY because a single, childfree friend of mine suggested that we meet for a coffee. She should know that I don’t like going for coffee, I like going for wine. If I choose not to spend time with my 11-month-old daughter, I like to make it count.

We went to Palm Vaults in Hackney so my friend could be an influencer and put videos of her latte on Instagram. She chose the café because of its dog-friendly policy. Not to mention that puppacino — the debasing act of taking your pug for a frothy coffee is trending. Cue her arriving with TV dog in tow — a tiny flat-faced pup wearing an actual raincoat — because this is what keeping it cute in E8 looks like this winter.

I get on average four hours of unbroken sleep a night and as a result there is nowhere I want to be more than In My Bed Alone, at any given time. So if we’re hanging out, forgive me for being self-centred — but I want to be the main event. I don’t want to share airtime with a pug. And the feeling is mutual. TV dog doesn’t want to be here — no dog wants to spend the afternoon under a table catching sourdough crumbs. He wants to be dominating the park, trying to run.

Before I get sent to Yulin I should say that I do like dogs, particularly those breeds that make the active decision not to kill you. My preferred canines are of the useful, wolfy variety (guide dog, guard dog, drugs dog, sheepdog…) so while she rewards her four-legged friend with avocado for not drifting into a sleep-apnoea coma, I dejectedly leaf through a stack of supplements and come across the ad above. Is it dog satire? Is this what canine in-jokes look like? If not, it’s a genuine attempt to engage the ABC1 dog lover, and I want to howl.