The sheepdog that rounded up treats

Reading of Sand the dog (Peterborough), i was reminded of old english sheepdog Paddy who pounded our estate’s streets in Milton Keynes in the eighties. no one knew who he belonged to. He would pass our house every morning — head down and clearly on a mission! His first port of call was the baker’s at the end of our road where he would sit patiently outside for a cake. From there he disappeared but was always back in time for the ice cream van’s visit in the afternoon. He’d wait until everyone was served and then put his paws on the counter for a cornet. i left my front and back doors open in summer for air to drift through, and Paddy would often race through the front door, grab my dog’s bowl in his teeth, and charge out of the back door with us in hot pursuit. He didn’t eat the dog food, but obviously had a wicked sense of humour! On Friday evenings he’d sit by our door waiting for our lodger to return from the pub and follow him to his room where he’d pour some guinness into a bowl for Paddy. One day he had a sign on him saying ‘Please don’t feed — he is getting fat’ — but it didn’t say ‘no alcohol’ so he still had his little Friday night tipples! does anyone else from Milton Keynes remember him?

Mary Gilbert, Clacton, Essex.