POEM OF THE DAY

Burns had his “twa dogs” of different character. Fleur Adcock offers an amusing sketch of two modern dogs with distinctive personality traits. The poem is in her new collection, Hoard (Bloodaxe Books, £9.95), some of which deals with recent visits to New Zealand, the country of her birth.

OSCAR AND HENRY

If you must have a dog, have a golden retriever and settle for the lumbering devotion of one like Oscar, so hugely fixated that, his master having failed to convey

the concept of ‘temporary’ of ‘back in a month’, he fell into a canine depression and developed eczema, which mustn’t be scratched; thus causing him the humiliation

of having to walk around for weeks with his head in a bucket, or at least stuck through the base of a bucket, the sides framing his face like Dog Toby’s Punch and Judy frill.

But perhaps it’s not a breed for the city where the temptations can be so corrupting think of Henry, who at the faintest sniff of freedom through a not quite latched front gate

is off towards the High Road, across the traffic lights, and in at Budgens’ automatic doors to snaffle up another chocolate bar from the impulse buys at the nearest checkout.