I paid much too much money for this ornament in a shop above a shop in Islington last year. I know it’s kitsch but I enjoy his perky nose and waggy tail and that colour orange sends me. I feel happy every time I look at it. Homes should never be temples of perfect good taste. I liked it, I still like it, but mostly I fancied the shop owner in his picture on the shop’s website. He looks like a lost member of Mumford and Sons, all tweed waistcoat, collarless shirt and button on braces. My bucolic boyfriend. Well, My imaginary bucolic boyfriend. I met him one day. He looked like he’d been written by Hardy. We spoke briefly but there was no spark. We’ll always have a china dachshund to remind us of what never was. And that’s why I love my lil orange doggie.