Just had the serious chat with the vet about Dog. The vet says Dog will probably not last until the end of the year. Obviously I am distraught, but when I told the kids, they were really excited about the prospect of trading him in for a younger model. They want a boy dog called Richard Hammond. Yes, that's right, a dog called Richard Hammond. It doesn't bear thinking about. The Twins said if they really can't have a boy dog called Richard Hammond, then could they please have a girl one called Jessie J?
I'm sure I wasn't quite so heartless at that age.
I suppose, on the positive side, we're finally getting to recoup all the millions of pounds we've paid into dog insurance over the years.
Nope, I'm not feeling it; there is no positive side.
And I'm not getting a puppy called Richard Hammond, ever.