ZELLA COMPTON: Finding my dog has proved the value of microchipping

Fish fingersFish fingers
Fish fingers
Never has the value of microchipping an animal been proved to me more than last weekend when my dog was startled by a gun firing and bolted '“ a long distance.

I’ve lost him before. Show me an animal owner who says they haven’t lost their pet once and I’ll show you a face of disbelief (unless they’re a fish owner who keeps their pet in a bowl).

It’s like children. We’d all like to think that we’ve never misplaced the offspring, but which parent hasn’t at one time or another had to stand in the middle of a store and yell: ‘I’ve lost my son. He is wearing etc etc etc’?

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Years ago, before my children were even a twink of a twinkle in the eye, I was on a bus in London.

It drew up to let off passengers in a big crowd. A young child got off, but the mother didn’t have time. And there she stood, laughing as the bus pulled away (I kid you not – charitably, I’d like to think it was hysteria) with her friend, before she dismounted at the next stop and walked back.

I vowed that would never happen to me and I would always swallow my pride and fear and shout loudly for help.

I’d shout on someone else’s behalf too as I have no doubt the driver would have stopped. What was she thinking?

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Then there are the times you lose your partner in that crowd of men sitting outside shops, merging into one amorphous mass of bored bag-carriers.

Or your elderly parents, who wander off aimlessly – in my mother’s case, drive off aimlessly, but that’s a whole other story.

Misplacing ones you love is a common phenomenon. But with phones we’re all mostly okay, aren’t we?

Except when it comes to pets and the hindrance that not only do they not have opposable thumbs, they also can’t remember basic instructions like ‘come back’.

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The only things that my dog can remember for sure is that he loves liver treats and hates getting in vehicles.

How the lovely people who found him managed to get him in their car is an interesting thought. But they took him to a vet and he was scanned, then reunited with me.

Hence my new love of microchipping.


I’m afraid the news out this week that burnt or overcooked foods can increase the risk of cancer is not a good thing to hear in my kitchen.

Apparently the risk is heightened by overdone toast and roast potatoes.

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I admit I’m not the best cook, though I do try wholeheartedly.

On one occasion the neighbours rang to tell me they thought something might be on fire.

That was a chicken carcass, which I was supposed to be boiling to make stock, that had – with the water all boiled away – become stuck to the pan.

Then there are the fish fingers (my go-to food for the children) which I’ve had to fling, more than once, flaming on to the lawn. But I can’t be the only one, can I?


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I can’t quite believe that Donald J Trump is now the president of the USA.

When I lived in Canada, I watched the American Apprentice series partly because it was fun and also to marvel at such a strange-looking being on television.

Of course we must not judge on looks though, we must judge on actions.

Hello Twitter. I can’t quite believe that someone there isn’t censoring the tone of his tweets.

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Here we have a man who has no filters whatsoever, no diplomacy, no sense of others’ perception.

I reckon it’s not going to be long before he drags America into the world’s naughty corner.

And I reckon that’s where it will stay sitting as the rest of us collectively ignore the Trump temper tantrums.