One man and his dog.

In order to understand how things are in the Robinson household you need to know about Lucy, our elderly, overweight Cavalier spaniel. She is totally and absolutely a one man dog – and Paul is that one man. And it is the same the other way. For example I once tripped over her and we both yelped. Voice from the kitchen ‘ Are you all right my little love? – and yes it was the dog Paul was speaking to. Everything he eats involves a small portion for Lucy and she goes wherever he goes. On the very rare occasion when she has to be left behind, he talks to here about where he is going and why she can’t come and she then becomes a door stopper looking mournful until he comes home.

Last night Paul was feeling awful, he had had hic-cups for 48 hours and was exhausted, leaving his supper uneaten he decided to go to bed at about 8.30 and I decided to go too, so as not to disturb him later. He lifted Lucy onto the bed and she walked all over us as she decided where to settle.

Within an hour she was scratching at the bedroom door and I staggered out of bed to open it for her so that she could get to her water bowl. This time she settled in her basket. Paul woke up and lifted her onto the bed, which she explored again.

Before long Paul woke up to go for a cigarette, Lucy went with him, walking over me as she found a good place to jump off the bed. This was repeated several times throughout the night as P. got up for cigarettes, to check his blood, to inject some insulin.

Morning comes and P. brings me a cup of tea, and says ‘You look shattered love, didn’t you have a good night?’ I know why Virginia Woolf talked about ‘A room of ones own’