Dogs, specifically. My old pal Chris Holmes (haven’t seen him for 20 years) is a professional blogger holed up in Corfu, poor sod, and has just acquired a new mutt which he hopes to call Argos if his mama so permits.

Mama, being inconceivably grand, will not have heard of the cheap as chips catalogue store in the UK which prevents any classically educated bod calling their dog Argos. Might as well call it Woolies or Primark.

Which reminds of a lady I heard on the radio a while back, who was saying “I had a lovely cheap holiday, I had two weeks in Iceland. You should try it; there’s one in Wood Green.” I would certainly credit her if I could remember her name.

Von chose to call GR3 Milo. Now Milo is a fine, inoffensive name for a golden retriever. Even pet names mutate, and he gets called Milometer when we’re out for a walk and Milosevic when he is unspeakably evil.

When we signed up for puppy training class there was another golden retriever, one year old, called Milo. Then a spaniel puppy arrived last week, called Milo.  There’s A Lot Of It Going About.

On Tuesday we had dinner with Roger and Angèle. A fun evening, destroyed later by our Milo choking to a slow, agonising, noisy and vomit-spattered death between 2am and 9am. There were faint signs of life when we got him to the vet at 9 who instantly diagnosed Kennel Cough (There’s A Lot Of It Going About), and he’s now absolutely fine. I managed to catch one hour’s sleep in 48 hours.

Thinking of Milosevic and the appointment of Kevin Pietersen (born 27 June (my father’s birthday) 1980 in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa) as England cricket captain against South Africa — would we have appointed a Serbian general to lead the British contingent in the Balkan conflict?

Check out Corfucious if you want to watch a master blogger at work.

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