Your problems solved | 8 December 2007

Q. Although I consider my dog Claude to have been born without a brain, he miraculously remembers that Wednesday is the day for his extra-long walkies and sits by the front door, thereby allowing no one to exit without his being in tow. So it was that this Wednesday Claude took up his position, collar on and gazing nobly as blue Great Danes are so adept at doing. At 7.43 a.m. precisely we set out and would have followed the customary route which entails an eager rush along Tite Street, greeting the Honourable Mrs Schleswig-Mopps’s trio of pugs, over Royal Hospital Road, navigating the four-wheel-drive tractors in Durham Place and a hurtle around Burton Court ending in an imperious trot down Royal Avenue. No sooner had we left the house than I felt a buzzing in my coat pocket. The telephone message conveyed to me the news that there were two immediate work panics on that could not wait and my presence was demanded at the office.