Monday
Herbie is now 13 years old. Which, depending on how you measure it, makes him somewhere in his 80s in dog years. For his last birthday, friends gave him some treats that claim to improve his joints. Now, I took glucosamine for years in a bid to make my knees marginally less creaky and never noticed any improvement. But whatever ingredients – I’m guessing WD40 laced with amphetamines – they’ve put into these doggy ‘joint care’ chews, they appear to have had a miraculous effect. A while back, I wrote about how Herbie had torn a ligament in his back leg and that the vet had recommended surgery. A number of you wrote in to me to say not to bother with the operation. His leg would heal just as well on its own. We took the advice and – guess what? - you were absolutely right. So thank you for saving Herbie a painful operation and three months of rehab and for saving us £4K. But in the last few weeks, since taking the daily chew, Herbie’s recovery has taken another quantum leap forward. He is now running around with the energy and freedom of movement he showed when he was five years old. We can’t quite believe the change in him. Then maybe he’s just enjoying life as a minor celebrity since his memoir, ghosted by me, came out last week. He and I did have a minor falling out: he accused me of trivialising his contribution to public life – he began his career as a special adviser to Ed Miliband in 2014 and has since gone on to work in No 10 for every prime minister - for comic effect. Anyway, Herbie and I have since made up. So if you want to know what happened to the Pot Plants, what Larry the Cat is really like, who was behind the Kabul pet rescue and what goes on in meetings of Canines Anonymous, do please buy Taking the Lead. It’s the most accurate account of the last 10 years you will ever read.
