I got home from work to discover the foundations of our new kitchen had been poured. The builders had erected a series of barriers around them so we didn’t fall into liquid concrete and entomb ourselves. Some while later, I went outside and noticed that there was a trail of little skittery footprints all the way round the three sides.

I kind of like the idea that one day, maybe in a hundred years’ time, the room will be knocked down and JDs paw prints will be there like an unsolved puzzle. Someone will scratch their head and wonder who the dog was whose paw prints are so euphorically emblazoned on the foundations of our home (obviously by then it’ll be someone else’s home). Not many of us leave any kind of legacy – I know I won’t. I’m destined to fade away into the gloom. JD, on the other hand, has a longevity to which I cannot ascribe.