Should we call him Brexit? Maybe not

WE HAvE a new puppy. I know, I know: madness, especially when you consider we already have two dogs and a cat.

In my defence, he’s a rescue mutt. And I’m a sucker for a sob story. One moment I was chatting to a friend who works with animals, the next I was in receipt of a small bundle of fur that had been rejected by its owner.

He’s a hilarious-looking thing, a bit like a cross between a spider monkey and a Gremlin. The previous owner had bought him expecting him to be a nice, easy handbag dog (newsflash: there is no such thing) and was astonished when he seemed to have no off switch. Honestly, some people.

Still, he’s settling in nicely. There’s just one small problem. It took my son, of course, to see this. As he put it: ‘That’s a bit stupid of you, Mum, given Dad’s whole thing with Brexit.’

Only then did it click. He’s a Griffon Bruxellois — a Brussels Griffon. Oops.