There's a good article in the online Times today, with the above title. If you like dogs, go and read it - you will enjoy it.
A couple of things that made me laugh:
If I say “walk” or “biscuit” he will perform what I call his “extreme dance of happiness”, which, if you’d like to give it a go at home, must involve spinning in excited circles while trying to bite your own balls off.
We like to play the game, “What would Monty not say, even if he could speak?” and top of our list at present is, “I feel so cheap and worthless after casual sex,” and, “No, after you, I insist.”
All my life I’ve prided myself on never taking any exercise, but I walk Monty on Hampstead Heath for at least a couple of hours every day and I’m never bored. His enthusiasm rubs off on me. Let’s bark at this squirrel! Let’s crash though these bushes! Let’s see if this nice golden retriever lady wants sexy time!
This reminds me so much of my own Lab, about whom all of the above (with the exception of the reference to balls - he lost his a while back) could be written. He's dim and rather goofy, and has some appalling personal habits, such as getting into the field and rolling in fresh fox-shit, and then coming to greet every member of the family in turn to show off his new after-shave. But then he'll walk up to you with those big eyes, put his slobbery jowls on your lap, and all is forgiven. At almost 12 years old, his eyes are getting a bit dim and his boundless energy is less than it was, but he has never lost his puppyish enthusiasm for people and food. I can't imagine living without a dog.
I've never met a dog I didn't like. That's more than I can say for people.