This weekend my relationship with Mrs TKK reaches a critical stage when we head to my home town in Wales for some housesitting and I have to introduce her to…

The dog.

Bess

The meet the parents bit I’m not too concerned about, as they have a default position of assuming anyone I go out with is too good for me (I’m tempted to bring Maxine Carr home to test this stance), so she’s assured a warm welcome. But introducing her to the dog might prove tricky, given Bess’ possessive and challenging behaviour with past girlfriends.

In general terms hugging and kissing a girlfriend in her presence is a mistake, as she will rush over, bark, and jump up at the girlfriend.

In more specific terms, the first time I brought R back to the house Bess proceeded to jump on her head and refuse to move, making it look like R was wearing a particularly avant garde style of hat.

A second girlfriend made a real effort to get on with Bess, but Ms I was placed in the ignominious position of being persistently snubbed. When an animal as sociable as a dog blanks you, what does that say? This girlfriend was Japanese, so maybe I have a racist dog…

The ultimate “fuck you!” moment came in the park when Ms I attempted to ingratiate herself by throwing a stick for Bess, which arced through the air and landed a reasonable distance away.

And remained unclaimed there.

Until I encouraged Bess to fetch it, at which point she raced after it, bringing it back.

To me.

What a complete bitch!

So I face a week of trying to avoid being in the doghouse with both parties.

Still, if things get too competitive between, I can always break out the muzzle.