‘I only wanted to lick its foot…..health and safety gone mad!’

I gather you have met the grandson on his first visit to Yorkshire, Bruce, and are concerned that your natural impulse to lick all available bare feet may have been misinterpreted. You quickly found yourself banished from his presence, I hear, and consigned to an outer circle of acquaintance. Understandably this rankles with you. You feel aggrieved that you were excluded from the deep contemplation and adoration of the little mite that formed the principal occupation of both The Mommy and Satan for the week.

It is now axiomatic that dogs and babies don’t mix. Sorry Bruce, that’s the way it is. Regrettably some of your fellow hounds have disgraced themselves in this respect, with tragic consequences.

I counsel you to put aside this grievance, and invite you to consider that it is in your best interest to keep a healthy distance between yourself and the growing boy. This particular boy is genetically programmed to be highly inquisitive and in time will become extremely mobile and possessed with strong fingers. You on the other hand are not as nimble as heretofore, on account of your regimen of sleeping and eating. Mentally speaking it will be no contest. Speed of thought is not your strong point.

The boy’s mother detects great curiosity to be a dominant feature of her son’s character. The Mommy concurs with this analysis and also exclaims his cheerfulness of demeanour and growing strength. Even Satan is admiring of the way the babe can already drink himself to oblivion. In short, he is perfection personified and will be capable of no wrong. In time, when he approaches you my advice would be to keep moving and look for a nearby exit. A world of pain awaits the unwary pooch.

Why has my butt turned grey?

I gather you are concerned about the effects of ageing, Bruce. Apparently it is your fourth birthday. You may also have picked up some static because this week Satan approaches the point whereby he can pick up his pension. This is seen as a cause for celebration, although his butt turned grey a long time ago.

There is a view, generally accepted, that with age comes greater wisdom. This would in your case reveal itself by a growing realisation, for example, that there is no need for a panic attack when the Mommy leaves the room, or goes upstairs or down the garden – because you understand she will return. Unfortunately my observation of your behaviour - battering at locked bathroom doors, racing down the garden when she has gone upstairs, trotting animatedly from room to room in mounting desperation - leads me to believe that wisdom continues to elude you.

Difficult as it may seem, I urge you to try to emulate Satan’s attitude to the absence of the Mommy. He often has no idea where she has gone, having not paid attention to information given. However he is relaxed, confident in the knowledge that she will appear come suppertime.

So your butt turning grey should not worry you, life will continue for you essentially unaltered. Your routine of sleeping and eating, interspersed with panic attacks, is really very commonplace. You may not have noticed but it is a lifestyle shared in your household by both the Mommy and Satan. In the former case when occasion demands that she goes out to work, in the latter case when car keys or scissors do not come immediately to hand.