BY NAME AND BY NATURE: MY DOG

I've never considered myself an animal lover. It always seemed, once I even came across it, a nonsensical, pointless tool of description. Wasn't everyone? Imagine my shock when as a small child I found out that there were actually people who chose not to have pets, not because they were animal haters (though, we all know they exist), but just because they prefer to live solely with other humans.

For me, I had animals before I had siblings. From birth till the present there has only been one four-year stretch when I was without some kind of non-human creature I considered part of my family. And for the record, those four years were as alien to me as it would be for a right-handed person to write with their left hand.

Some people think that devotion to an animal is ridiculous. I can see their point when pet owners are spending more on their pets' clothes than their own and failing to train them because they think it would be mean. Don't get me started on dog weddings. I have certainly had cause more than once over the years to utter the phrase "For goodness sake; it's only a dog/cat/budgie/[insert absurdly pampered animal here]."

But I think this attitude, when too broadly applied, misses a rather big point. So-called 'animal lovers' bond with their pets in an almost primal way. When our ancestors first domesticated the wolf and created 'man's best friend', it wasn't just because they were fed up with their human companions. If you're going after big, potentially dangerous game, you need to know that your hunting partner has got your back. It's not enough to train an animal to do as it's told; you have to make him love you enough so that he will do anything for you. And the only way to build that devotion is to build trust.

Granted, we don't need Fido to catch a deer for supper any more, but how many of us benefit from Felix's mouse-catching skills or Rover's guardianship of our home even if that wasn't the primary purpose for which we acquired him?

After that four-year absence of fur in our lives, my siblings and I were incensed that our imaginative suggestions were rejected by our Mum for her own choice of name for our new dog. But as his life draws rapidly to a close, our Norfolk terrier/Jack Russell cross Pal, has proved by his nature that Mum was spot on.

That little dog is barely as tall as my shins but he's fought dogs twice his size and strength when they've tried to attack one of us. And that's because from the age of three when we adopted him, he has always had our love, our roof over his head, our garden to run around and food in a bowl, and he has been walked at the very least twice daily for the twelve years since he joined our family.