Humans are fickle. And easily led. At least, that’s my experience.

      Picture, if you will, a perfect specimen of cat-kind. A beautiful Ragdoll cat, with dark face and paws and fluffy white fur all over. An intelligent, stylish cat who looks after your house, keeps your knees warm at night, has refined tastes, hardly ever wanders or gets lost, and generally adds a sense of elegance to your life.

      That’s me: Lara.

      Now, picture a stray dog, picked up in the Chinese desert, with ears that point almost directly outwards for goodness’ sake, who scampers along with you, wins her way into your heart then manages to get completely lost, resulting in you having to go back to China to search for her. Then imagine that you want to bring the dog home to Britain with you, but that means you have to live in another country away from your perfect cat – and your wife, actually – for months on end because of some rules about animal travel. Basically, imagine a scruffy dog that causes all sorts of trouble by having adventures.

      That’s Gobi. My new sister pet, ever since Dad arrived home with her, 18 months ago.

      I mean, really! Which would you prefer? It’s an easy choice, right?

      Apparently not so easy as you’d think.

      Ever since Dad brought Gobi into our lives it has been constant chaos.

      I don’t like chaos, I like prawns for supper and quiet, predictable days.

      Before Gobi came, all of my days were quiet and predictable. Ever since Mum and Dad