IF THE frequency of arguments between me and my husband is anything to go by, when the time comes that I need to find a new man I will know what to do.
I won't go to singles bars, nor will I approach dating agencies. No way will I frequent Internet chat rooms nor stick my telephone number in call boxes.
I will simply get a dog. When you take a dog for a walk almost everyone - male and female - who happens to cross your path stops to chat. Or at the very least they look down at the hound who is dragging you along and smile warmly.
"Oh, isn't he lovely," they say. "What's his name?" "He's so sweet." "How old is he?" "My uncle has got one of those." "Has he always had such a thick coat?"
It's amazing the amount of interest that a pooch generates. A half-hour walk can easily turn into an hour or more as you stop to run through the animal's history with passers-by.
As for men, I've been stopped by old blokes with terriers, middle-aged fathers with tots, even dodgy-looking young lads milling about on their own.
No longer do I feel like Scruffy Lady with wild red hair who most people suspect goes to the park to relax with a bottle of Famous Grouse peeping out of a paper bag. Now I feel like Attractive Man Magnet with dog.
It is little wonder that for women in New York a dog (usually dressed in its own clothes, which is something I really don't approve of) has become the latest 'must-have' accessory.
I admit, I am not a dog person - I am a cat lover through and through. To me a dog means responsibility, dog smells, dribble, hairs all over the house (anyone who claims that cats leave more is talking rubbish), dog dirt (at least cats bury theirs) and massive responsibility in terms of training and exercise.
Yet I have met so many people since I have been walking George, my neighbour's West Highland Terrier. I've never really felt at home in our street, where people come and go and don't seem to have time to get to know you. But going out with George at the end of a lead I almost feel part of a community - albeit of dog owners.
If you have a problem people flock round with offers of assistance, even if it does involve unsavoury activities involving dog's bottoms.
Plus, I always feel better for the exercise - research has proved that owning a dog improves health - although I can't claim to enjoy being made to hang around for ten minutes at every lamp post, tree and car tyre.
My eldest daughter would love a dog, but we have neither the time nor the space. Plus I am still hugely biased in favour of felines - quiet, small enough to have on your knee every night, comforting, no toilet requirements other than a cat flap and a scrap of soil and no exercising other than occasionally throwing balls of paper across the living room.
However, should my circumstances change and I find myself a single mum struggling to put up a shelf or craving a candlelit dinner in a swanky restaurant with a lovely man, I will be down to the dogs' home faster than you can say "Here Boy!".
Updated: 09:04 Tuesday, February 24, 2004
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