Patch growled. He always growled when given different food. He growled when it rained because he couldn’t get outside to mess around in the garden. He growled when visitors came and he wasn’t getting all the attention. He liked to be the centre of everything. Some said he was just a spoilt mongrel. Make a fuss over him and Patch was pleased; a dog with a bone.
To be honest, he spent most of the day sleeping. Burglars could have entered the house and Patch would go on napping.
He was called Patch for obvious reasons, although it wasn’t his real name. He’d lost an eye in a war. “It gives me the heebie-jeebies,” said his more-than-patient wife. “That’s why I make him wear a patch over the eye socket.”