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Harry the dog here, alternative names are H man, Harold, Harrington, H.D. and Come On!! amongst others.

A day with “Daddy” (Birchall) starts around 8;30 with him hobbling into the living room, it takes him a while to get going these days.

He was told he had something very serious, it turns out its only serious.

There I am, Harry the dog, carrying out my dog duties, lying on the sofa in a blissful semi-conscious state. He staggers over, pokes me in the face and pats me on the cheek, this last greeting (assault) is often accompanied by an unintentional poke in the eye, he means well.

With a cry of “Harold!! He disappears to the kitchen.

Then, In the style of an abstract found sound composition, he orchestrates the sounds of the tap running, the kettle being switched on, and blister packs popping. Supplemented by the occasional sigh, throat clearance and profanity.

His look at this time of day is not for the faint of heart. Grey sweat pants and old large sized T shirt and in winter a blue towelling robe. His hair is styled by the pillow and always surprises. I’m used to it, any startled delivery drivers less so.

He moves back into the living room, carrying a mug of strong coffee and a large glass of water with accompanying medication. Gulp of coffee, followed by the opening of the laptop. He tuts and groans whist scrolling, closes laptop and turns the T.V. on to the news channel. T.B.C……..

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