Can lamb bones buy happiness? Kate Shrewsday shares the cautionary tale of Macaulay the Dog and his newly acquired wealth.
Oh, the poor dog.
He has become rich beyond the dreams of avarice, and it has – I can categorically confirm – made him unhappy.
This is not the first tale of a bone which has been connected, here in these cyberpages, with Macaulay the Dog. But it is a living, whimpering metaphor; a shadow on the creature who has always been such a happy-go-lucky surfer of life’s waves. Possessions, mark my words, do not always make one happy.
On Sunday evening there was a ring on the doorbell and there stood our kindly dog-friendly neighbour. She had with her a lamb bone. It was huge. Enormous. And delighted, we took the bone and introduced the dog to its rancid charms.
Was it naive to expect a twinkle in the eye, a jauntier gait as those paws clattered out into the garden, carrying jaws bearing gifts? Because the dog was…
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