Autobiography

he could go off to bed whenever he wanted to
– but when Lesley moved into her new house,
or when she was at my home, he always
insisted on being carried upstairs to bed.
We might have been listening to music,
watching television or just talking, but when
Monty wanted to go upstairs to bed he would
grumble until Lesley took notice. That is how
spoilt he was; though he knew he couldn’t get
away with it with me. I remember one evening
at Lesley’s bungalow when we had just had a
wonderful evening and were sitting on the
sofa. When I put my arms around Lesley to
kiss her goodnight Monty jumped up between
us and refused to budge. There I was, trying to
hug Lesley, but Monty was having none of it,
leaving Lesley with the problem of whether to
push me or the dog away. She left him where
he was, and we said our goodnights around
him.
It was quite clear to both of us by that stage
that this was a special relationship developing
– despite Monty and his scant regard for my
earnest courtship. I guess we were rivals for
Lesley’s affections, though I was somewhat
dismayed at the fact that he won more often
than me. I can whinge as much as I like and
never get carried up to bed. Sadly, Monty is no
longer with us.
About a year after meeting Lesley, we were
getting ready to go to a charity function in
London when Lesley suddenly asked, ‘How do I
look?’
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