If your child is switching on full-on pester power for a new pet this Christmas, columnist Kerry Hudson advocates a doggy adoption scheme with a difference

At this time of year, with the lights twinkling and Wham constantly pouring into my lugholes, I often think about one of the loves of my life, Johny. I linger tearfully over presents he might have liked, mainly sausages, or discarded BigMac boxes, a very muddy tennis ball.

I’m thinking of our beloved Staffy-Lab, the size of a house with the temperament of a teddy bear who went to the big all you can eat buffet in the sky last year at a good old age. My son was two when we adopted Johny after his previous owner passed away. By the time he came to us, he’d had been through three adoptive homes, since he was not only senior but also largely untrained to live with anyone but his previous owner.

Training him was like training a bull but we did it with love and eventually he would listen to us 45% of the time. My kid and him became the best of buddies, Johny following him from room to room and cosying up in his pile of cuddly toys, my boy feeding Johny whatever he didn’t want to eat under the table. Those broccoli farts are still biblical lore in our household.

Needless to say, since we had to have the awful conversation where we told our little boy Johny was sick and would die soon, he’s been asking for another dog every day for the last year. Specifically, and for no reason we can........

© Herald Scotland