Q. A good friend and respected colleague, a QC who crossed into commerce, has of late enjoyed some success in that field, becoming chairman of two significant companies. This has buoyed his self-esteem which was not previously especially low in the water. Recently the FT saw fit to profile him in their ‘Power Player’ series, describing him as ‘a ferocious intellect’, among other things. He is now to be heard professing a lifelong admiration for the perspicacity of the FT editorial team. To date he has indeed been a clever, witty and immensely enjoyable colleague, but any objective survey would also report a lack of height and hair, along with a keen appetite for alcohol. I worry that his recent fêting, coming late in life as it does, might allow his little feet to leave the ground completely. What should we do to remind him of his mortality?
K.C., London SW7
A. Knowledge that a fêted figure was in fact short, bald and with a keen appetite for alcohol would do little to reverse status perception. These are the distinguishing features of many leaders. All too soon, without the need for any intervention from you, nature, time and media will run their inexorable course and cut this man back down to size again. In the meantime, do let him exult in his temporary run of glory.
Q. Your reply to the letter from R.C., of Boar’s Hill (24 October) reflects an ignorance of the breed in question. Pugs have long been the choice of royal dynasties — in China for several centuries. And when Prince William of Holland ascended the English throne, pugs attended the ceremony wearing orange ribbons. They are known to be used in therapy for the elderly and for sick children. Only experience of the unswerving loyalty and devotion of which a pug is capable could convince the prejudiced doubter. Ours, bought for my husband who was disabled by a stroke, remained in the daytime between his feet, slept beside him in bed at night for over six years, and in death lay with him too. Today, more than two years later, he visits his room daily to commune with the past, and lies where his bed stood. His name is Momotaro, named for the beloved hero of a Japanese fairytale who came by a miracle to two old people who needed him, which is what our Momo did. Try a pug and see! The warmth you mention, and the steady, quiet snoring, are a solace for lonely nights. Their capacity to converse by a tilt of the head never ceases to amaze me.
J.B., Pieterkoen, George, South Africa
A. Thank you for your moving testimony. Those readers considering a new canine companion might now be inspired to enhance their own households with a pug or two.
Q. Our youngest child is now at boarding school and I am no longer able to use the pretend unavailability of a babysitter as a reason to refuse unwanted second-rate dinner invitations. Mary, would you be prepared to share any of your stock of foolproof excuses?
Name and address withheld
A. Why not say that the list of people to whom you owe reciprocal hospitality is so long you are accepting no new invitations until your existing responsibilities have been discharged? Add ‘when we have finished paying people back we would love to come to you and you must come to us.’ This leaves your options open.
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