The Canine Diaries: An insider's views of No.10 Downing Street (Issue 7)

What joy, Spring is here. A medley of flowers, long grass and sunshine under the lovely blue skies. Happiness overcomes me as I roll on the lawn and give myself a feel-good scratch. Despite my appearance, I would like to think that I am quite an erudite little snapper. I believe the Sanskrit word "??????" (prīti), lends itself to joy...I feel a sudden pain shooting up from my tail. I must have been napping. My puppy dog eyes flicker open and adjust to the light. Yes, I am that cute. The reality? A pen pusher is standing on my tail, I snap and unleash a selection profanities in dog speak. My bruised tail is now free. Deep breaths...and calm. I notice the leaves are flat, brown and on the lawn. I've been dog dreaming. I must have slept through a whole season!

Actually there is a person I know, 'Joy' Patel. I rarely get a smile from her. I do get the impression that she knows what she wants and feels like she should be in Boris' shoes, or stillettos rather. The word 'stilleto' originates from 'stilo', which is a diminutive dagger. She looks like she could cut me up with a command or two, but most politicians have that look about them. Sometimes when I give myself a good hind leg itch, I wonder what a Home Secretary does? Does she write for Britain? Does she answer the phone at Reception? Order stationery? Or is she Boris' trusted spokesperson? The truth is I don't know, you caught me napping, while Joy trampled on my wagger. No apologies, just a cursory 'don't mess with me' glance.

It's good to have Joy in the house though. Since 1979, for 14 years my home was home to female owners Margaret and Theresa. Trails they may have blazed, but at an all-time high of 34%, there aren't enough women in parliament to threaten more rude awakenings. Shame really, we need a more gender balanced bunch to take collective decisions. Back to No. 10 though I'm a boy, I wonder if Larry, the Mouser-in-Chief is one too? I'll have to have to investigate...