‘How’s the dissatisfaction-with-life syndrome? You haven’t mentioned it this time.’
‘Well,’ Jonathan said carefully, wondering if the question might be a trap, ‘It’s actually much better. I take the dogs to work with me now.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ Dr Clare smiled at him.
‘It is. But certain things still worry me.’
‘Like?’
‘Like, they get up to things.’
‘What things?’
He looked at the floor. ‘Oh, just things. They eat my mail. Talk about me behind my back. Play sarcastic games with my girlfriend.’
‘Really?’
Jonathan nodded. ‘I sometimes think they’re not happy with my dominion over their lives.’
The vet blinked.
‘I think maybe they’d prefer a better owner. Someone more accomplished.’
She frowned again. ‘The whole thing about dogs is that, within fairly broad criteria, they love their owners. Dogs are loyal. Generally uncritical.’
‘Uncritical?’ He thought about this. ‘No, I don’t think so. Sissy, maybe.’ At the sound of her name, Sissy padded over and laid her head on his knee. He lowered his face to the soft fur of her head.