First impressions are important...

On the weekend, I took charge of my Mum's dog, Heidi.

She's a German Shepherd, and misses her Mum very much because she's gone on holiday to Spain for the weekend and left her behind.

So I put her and her luggage into my tiny Ford KA, and we head around the corner (no further than about 600 yards) to my place.

I take her straight in leaving all belongings in the car. The reasoning behind this was to make Heidi comfortable with her surroundings and give her some familiarity with both me and the room before I go to get her things.

She's been breathing heavily, and is clearly nervous as she runs around the room (she's 12 remember) gathering information about the lower tier of the house. She chooses (wisely) not to venture upstairs because she knows as well as I do that getting down will be a hell of a problem.

She goes back into the lounge and surveys the scene whilst slipping around like a maniac on our laminate floor.

She starts to lose her footing.

I start laughing.

Her back legs completely give up, and she starts doing the splits on the floor.

I laugh harder.

She moves slightly to the right, and I notice that she's actually been squatting, and has left a trail of shit along our living room floor.

I stop laughing.

The last laugh was on the German Shepherd.