Going for a walk with a puppy is nothing like going for a stroll on your own. Dogless, you start at A and reach B pretty much without interruption.

But with a bouncy little terrier at your side, everyone stops to chat. What a lovely dog! they say, as Archie enthusiastically rubs mud over their legs, tugs at their shoelaces and sniffs loudly around their groin. Is he a puppy? What's his name? Ahh! Look at him playing - as Archie energetically humps their calf - What sort of dog is he?

A Pain In The Neck, I say, gritting my teeth and finally managing to pull him successfully away, only to have him bound joyously on towards his next victim. It's all very lively and sociable.

Indeed, it has proved so sociable that Mr Young's plan to get a dog and keep fit is not working out terribly well. Running the gauntlet of Archie Admirers means it can take him up to half an hour just to reach the end of the road.

"Do you know what I've just realised?" he said the other day, following an ebullient puppy into the kitchen. "If only I'd had a dog when I was a teenager! I wouldn't have wasted so much time trying to come up with decent chat-up lines. Honestly, the amount of women that come and talk to me when I'm with Archie....no one even gives me a second glance when I'm out on my own."

"Well, what a shame you're a happily married man!" I said tartly.

"What was your best chat-up line, anyway?"

"Never really had one," he said. "But we did used to work in pairs - we'd find two girls we fancied, wait for one of them to go to the loo and then I'd go up to the other one and say 'My mate fancies your mate'. The indirect approach. Used to work quite well..." he trailed off wistfully.

"Well," I said, "if anything happens to me and you find yourself on your own again, you can just go up to gorgeous women and say 'My dog fancies your dog'."

"Oh no," he said seriously. "I could never even look at anyone else.

You've spoiled me for all other women."

"Oh, darling!" I said. "That's so lovely!"

Half an hour later, I suddenly thought - was it lovely? Or was it one of Mr Young's cleverly disguised insults? It's very hard to tell the difference. Sometimes I think I've taught him too well.

Friday

Met Julia, the editor of this magazine, in town for a coffee. It is just amazing how many things we have in common! She's brunette - so am I! She's a journalist - so am I! She's the eldest of three girls - so am I! She's young, gorgeous and glamorous - and I too am the oldest of three sisters! Spooky.

We were chatting about our families over cappuccinos and I mentioned Mr Young.

"Oh, so that's his first name, is it?" she said, looking pleased. "We do speculate about what it might be sometimes, back in the office. And now I know!"

I told Mr Young about this when I got home. This was a mistake. All this feminine attention is clearly going to his head.

"Come on Archie!" he said, whistling. "Time for a walk!"

"He's already been out," I said.

"I know," he said.

The two of them headed off, leaving behind the unmistakable scent of freshly-applied aftershave. Bless.