Why would anyone want to have their dog, erm, ‘done’? Well, in my case it’s because the next door neighbours have bought a pedigree puppy and my mutt is already leaning over the fence all lovesick.
It’s the classic boy-next-door thing. He’s the down-and-out with the dubious background, while she’s slinking around all shiny with her pedigree papers and extraordinarily long names in her family tree.
In all the teen movies, the lovers persevere through their difficulties and their family’s lack of support and finally come out victorious.
However, in my poor dog’s case I’m taking a firm stance from the outset. Love ain’t going to be happening in my back yard. He’s been neutered.
He is very down right now, but so are we. Because while he may be suffering from a bruised ego, we’re suffering from bruised legs.
It’s the cone effect, you see. For those of you who don’t know, dogs have cones fitted to their heads to stop them gnawing at their stitches. These cones are big, plastic and nothing like ice cream receptacles.
And let me tell you, when you’re rammed in the back of the legs by a puppy wearing one that’s looking for attention, it’s a killer.
Cones do have their upsides though. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it acts as a massive scoop.
Instead of charging straight into the action, he can flick up whatever he is trying to eat, spiralling it around the inside of the cone like one of those change boxes in secondhand shops in which children love to put coins.
Out of sympathy and in an attempt to save his street cred in the canine world, we take him for a walk under cover of darkness.
But his situation isn’t helped by the fact that his cone is attached to his collar by a pair of old pink tights, studded with fake diamanté.
These were very much loved by my seven-year-old, but after much angst they were donated to the dog’s cause. Quite what he makes of their lurid colour, I don’t know. But it certainly won’t help him with next door’s posh pooch.