To an outsider looking in, it probably looks quite bad. Indeed, for an insider looking in, it looks quite bad.

And also, so quick. If I wasn’t so mortified, I would actually be quite proud of our Hugo. The other dogs put up absolutely no resistance, and were easily persuaded to join in the destruction. Hugo is a leader of dogs! Hugo could go into politics!

Hugo has just torn off the unicorn’s horn.

I always thought that dogs were meant to be intuitive to the feelings and emotions of those around them, but as we all scramble to get hold of our respective beasts, I can’t help but think that Hugo looks extremely proud of himself, which is totally at odds with the inconsolable wailing of the nearby children and the extremely angry and flustered faces of the parents.

Hugo back on his lead, I look around and take stock of the destruction. There is a lot of it, and, like an Escher drawing, the longer you look, the more you see and the more inter-connected everything is. But unlike an Escher drawing, there is a clear beginning. And it all leads back to Hugo. Most of the teddy bears are in the jaws of their new (furrier) owners, the cake is smashed, and wrapped presents are now ripped open, their insides spilling all over the place like roadkill, many smooshed with mud. Even the balloons have made a run for it, caught up in a nearby tree.

Someone who looks a lot like an angry Birthday Girl parent comes over to me, filling me with more dread than I would care to admit.

And so I decide to lie.

‘I am so sorry. You see, Hugo, my dog, is a rescue I recently adopted from the jaws of death in a notorious kill centre somewhere in the … Spain. And he must have suffered a terrible accident with his previous owners, because he’s been left petrified of teddy bears and birthday parties. We don’t know what happened, but it must have been awful.’ Looking at him, you can tell he’s anything but scared. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so happy. Part of me is pleased he’s having such a good time. ‘I am so sorry,’ I say again. ‘If I’d known you would be here, I would have been so much more careful. I can sew the unicorn horn back on. Really, I’m quite good at sewing.’ I hear a noise and look over at Hugo. Despite still being on his lead, he’s managed to sneakily get hold of the unicorn horn, and is now callously ripping it up and spitting out the fluff as he goes. If he doesn’t want the fluff, why is he so determined to get it out? ‘Or maybe it would be best if I buy your daughter a brand new unicorn?’

‘Hugo! My love! How was your walkies? Were you a good boy for Bea?’ My mum is at the door the instant we walk into the drive. I can smell roast chicken. Sometimes I don’t know why I ever moved out of home. I detach his lead before he dislocates my shoulder. From the speed of his tail, you would think he hadn’t seen my mum in months. ‘Of course you were.’ She bends down and lets him lick her face.