Political column – January 13

Rocky, I'm talking about.

Rocky is our Chihuahua who we took on to help some people out even though we thought he was a horrible little dog. We now love him to bits, and tell people he's a lovely dog, really – though they take some convincing.

He has sharp teeth and is keen to introduce strangers to them. With other dogs he will dart and bark, even with those who could swallow him whole in one gulp.

He's had months under a behaviourist and has made regular trips to the vet for socialisation. And he's had group walks with other dogs, but I have now stopped those because there's been no point. As soon as another dog gets close, he does his barking and darting, so instead of walking with the other dogs he has his own walk a safe distance behind them. He'd reached a plateau, I explained to the walk leader.

Brick wall was the phrase used by the vet. He will take treats there but is wary. With his jabs due in March there is a looming problem. When he was given his initial jabs his terrified reaction was so violent and frantic that the lady vet accidentally jabbed herself with the needle. The bad news was that it drew blood, but the good news is that she hasn't gone down with kennel cough since.

It's serious. If Rocky needs any treatment, what is to be done if he won't let a vet touch him?

I took him along for another of his sessions the other day and after the usual treats the vet suggested something different – he asked me to sit outside and leave Rocky alone with him for a short while. So I did.

A few minutes later the vet came out with Rocky in his arms. Eyes pop out, jaw drops, mine that is, and also the ladies on reception who know all about Rocky and his ways.

"When I went to pick him up he went to bite me so I said No in a firm voice and he didn't do it again," the vet explained.

The magic No word had also been used to get him to wear a muzzle for a short while.

Mission impossible cracked, hard case tamed. They asked if they could take a picture of Rocky in the vet's arms. Of course, I said.

You need to say No in a firm and assertive way, the vet said.

Now I wouldn't want you to think that we don't say No to Rocky. We do.

Indeed, at home, newly motivated, I tried to put the muzzle on. He growled and went to bite me. No! I said in a firm and assertive way. I tried again. He bit my finger.

The struggle continues.

..............

One of my wife's favourite programmes over the festive season was the World's Strongest Man competition in which the strongmen lifted weights, pulled trucks, and so on.

There used to be a local strongman called Ray "Willpower" Williams who pulled buses with his teeth and once pushed a dried pea along the ground with his nose for over two miles.

May I suggest a new category for future strongman competitions? That is, trying to peel the plastic top off a pack of bacon.

...........

As it's a New Year, time to confess something, a long-held guilty secret.

Growing up, we used to have one of those Aladdin paraffin stoves and on freezing winter days I would put my shirt over the vents for a few seconds before putting it on, lovely and warm.

Then my mum decided to get us new shirts, made of nylon, a material which was with-it and very 1960s. When I tried the warm-the-shirt trick with the new shirt it melted. I was too embarrassed to tell my mum what had happened and she complained to the manufacturer that the shirt was faulty.

The manufacturer wrote back and refused a refund, saying: "This shirt has melted." I kept quiet.

Then there was that time that we were in a holiday apartment and I put one of the bed covers in the tumble dryer on a high setting...