When we get home I lock Bailey outside and watch him wander over to the angel and cock his leg against the plinth. Then I hunt for the Chronicle, the village freesheet, which I find at last in the bottom of a drawer between lurid rhododendron catalogues. I take it across to the window seat: Peter Hopkirk is striding past in waders, a sack containing moving animals over one shoulder. On the penultimate page is Reverend Newsome’s Lines from the Vicarage, but they are not as encouraging as I would like. This month he is reflecting on bus shelters again.
‘A chance encounter with a senior citizen,’ he writes, ‘set me thinking about the randomness of life. But is life really random? I feel that Mr X and I were meant to share that moment of communion, waiting for almost three quarters of an hour for the number 63.’
Dogs Delight is now available on Kindle at