Poor pooch is petrified of sporting noise and revelry

He may stand up to mighty hounds, but Fiona’s terrier is left cowering behind the sofa on cup day

It is official. The MacNaughties do not like rugby. Well, let’s be more accurate. One of them does not like it. It is my rufty-tufty terrier who gets hot under the collar when that whistle blows. Perhaps he is cross because Scotland did not make the final few games. Maybe he has something against those fans who turn up dressed as daffodils, roses and worse… I am, of course, referring to the Rugby World Cup. Which will mercifully be over by the time you read this.

For it has been an addictive watch. One that has been hard on the nerves. And is still taking its toll. As I write, it is still going on – and the chief and I are hooked.

With Scotland out of the running, we turn our support to England.

The game kicks off at nine. So, we are up early doors. The log burner lit. The TV switched on. The MacGregor and I tuck up on the sofa with copious cups of tea and coffee.

For it is too early for beer and pizza. But it is not too soon to scream and shout. And it is this ever-increasing noise that the naughty Norfolk objects to. Nay, my trembling terrier not only objects. As excitement levels rise, he starts to shiver and pant. Which is ridiculous.

This is the pet who struts around as if he owns the place. This is the dog who takes on hounds five times his size. The pooch who will bark at the burliest postman. Who is definitely the leader of the pack. Rummie, are you a man or a mouse, I ask? Little squeaks of fear come back. We put the poor boy in his bed in the kitchen where it is nice and quiet. And return to the sitting room to do more shouting and yelling.

“Come on, England!” (Sorry, Scotland, but being a Borderer, I have loyalties to both sides…)

Yes, this is the year that I rediscover rugby. In my youth I filmed stories about it. Tales from the pitch about Rugby Union and League. In my 20s and 30s, a Saturday at Murrayfield was a great treat. It was the action and the atmosphere. Then there were the before and after drinks in the car park. Do they still let you do that?! But back to my petrified pooch. I Google the matter and discover that he is not alone in his sport phobia.

Some dogs, it appears, hate it when a football match comes on the TV.

One hound goes further. He is frightened of football fans.

Rummie, are you a man or a mouse, I ask? Little squeaks of fear come back. We put the poor boy in his bed

Which may be understandable. Others shy from thunder and fireworks. Which, again, I can appreciate. Those poor doggies! What they have to put up with.

Happily, by the time you come to read this, Bonfire Night will have been and gone.

So will the Rugby World Cup. And who knows what will happen there?

I know it is un-Scottish to shout for England, but fingers crossed…

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Picture: Getty. Some dogs shy away from the sport-induced shouting.