‘I don’t believe,’ I retort with as much dignity as I can muster under these adverse circumstances, ‘that this establishment takes reservations. I was here before you, so I will lie down on this spot. Kindly allow me to do so.’ With these words I push Mr Something-or-Other aside and lie down quickly. He stares at me in stunned amazement. He has surely never encountered such civil resistance. I stretch out contentedly. Turns out Grandpa was right – a von Eschersbach is up even when he’s down.

While I lie there musing about when something to eat might be coming along (no matter how modest the meal is sure to be), my sunny spot suddenly darkens. What’s that, a cloud? I look up to see what in the world is casting this objectionable shadow – and find myself staring into the face of a rather unpleasant-looking boxer.

He shoves his nose right up to mine and gives off a whiff that really takes my breath away. ‘Watch out, you conceited squirt: if you weren’t new here, you’d be a dead dog. Our rules apply here, and you’d better stick to them. If my friend Bozo tells you to beat it, then…’ He moves in even closer and nips at me quick as a flash.

Ouch! A sharp pain shoots through my right ear. Help! This guy is a menace to society! I bark my head off. I reckon I’ve been put with a bunch of militant stray dogs perfectly prepared to resort to violence. But no matter how much I bark, no one comes, not even the young woman in the overalls.

Boxer and Bozo sneer smugly. ‘Save your breath. She can’t hear you now – she’s over by the cats. We could do you in, and no one would come to your rescue. One more dead dog to add to the list in this joint. Who cares?’

I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and a chill run down my spine. Bozo, the black mutt, plants himself in front of me once again. ‘So, what was that again? When I say beat it…’

‘I beat it?’ I squeak out to finish his sentence.

‘Right. Ten out of ten. Good dog.’

Bozo gives my sensitive nose another hard jab with his grubby paw. I jump out of the way in fright and scurry to the other corner of the cage with my legs trembling. Two other dogs are sitting there looking bored and watching the whole thing. Death and destruction appear to be par for the course around here; at any rate, no one cares that I’ve just been the victim of a crime.