The puppy pandemic is getting out of hand

They came in their droves. Labradors, Alsatians, French bulldogs, Spaniels, Cavapoos, Cockapoos, Labradoodles, Corgis, like a roll of dog poo bags, the list goes on. No sooner had Boris locked us up in the March sunshine last year than the nation rushed to acquire a dog.

After years of standing firm, parents finally gave in to their children’s pleas and took the plunge. Those living alone, confronted with the prospect of indefinite confinement, threw caution the wind (and their furniture) and gave in to the idea of a dog. Those who had not owned a dog for years, decided they would once more fling themselves unto the canine breach. I know all of this because when I walk my Pointer, Percy, in the fields and parks around my house I am assailed by people with boisterous puppies. I say I am assailed – really it is poor Percy – but like a Priest in the confessional people flock towards me to make their admission: they bought the dog in lockdown.