The new dog and I are not speaking. This situation arose after a difficult morning when my wife was not at home, and the new dog chose to spend its time harassing the old dog, chewing up a pair of unmatched shoes, a phone charger and, while my back was turned, a £20 note. Then while I was telling it off the dog leapt up playfully to bite my admonishing finger, and I said some things I shouldn’t have.
This dog, which will happily use up a spare 15 minutes barking at its own reflection in the glass of the back door, has apparently developed a nascent ability to hold a grudge: it’s lying on a jute rug staring at the wall, resentful of having to share the room with me while I work at the kitchen table. I am also resentful, but I don’t dare leave the new dog in a room by itself, or with the old dog, for any length of time.
