‘So tell me, what’s your name?’ Fritz asks.

‘Carl-Leopold,’ I reply curtly.

‘Carl-Leopold? That’s a funny name for a dog.’

‘I don’t think so. It’s a matter of ancestry.’ Philistine! What would he know about lovely names? ‘I’m a von Eschersbach,’ I add proudly.

‘Von Eschersbach? Doesn’t ring any bells,’ Fritz mutters and keeps wagging his tail.

I sigh. He really is a philistine. A nice philistine, of course, but he still is one. Just when I’m about to start filling Fritz in on the outlines of my family history, I hear a door slam in the building next to our kennel. I stand rooted to the spot. Not that the sound itself is so loud – after all, the noise level in this place is enough to make a dachshund’s delicate ears fall right off. No, I’m intrigued by an indescribable aroma wafting straight towards my nose. Fritz seems to have picked up the scent as well; he’s stopped that stupid tail-wagging and is now squeezing his nose through the bars.

‘Do you smell that too?’ I ask him.

He nods.

‘Great, huh?’

‘Yeah, amazing!’ he agrees.

‘That is the most beautiful scent I’ve ever smelled on a human,’ I tell him.

This scent clearly belongs to a human. Dogs pick up on that right away. But what sort of human could this be, with such a good scent? Not the ordinary kind of good, like the smell of pork sausage or chocolate cookies. No, it’s more like…I mull it over…yes, that’s what it is: like a beautiful summer’s day. A jolly summer’s day. Very much like flowers, a bit like strawberries, with a hint of peppermint. Fantastic.

‘We’ll probably be let down the second we see the human. The silliest people always smell the best,’ Fritz explains with an expert air.

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘I’ve got to admit that I’ve never noticed any connection. I’m not a good judge of that.’

‘No, it’s true. I’ll bet you anything.’

We train our eyes on the door, and there she is, heading our way, towards the cages, followed by the lady in the overalls. Fritz was way off the mark. For a human, she’s magnificent, like an angel. She’s chatting with the other woman, and laughing while she speaks. Her eyes are laughing too, which looks particularly lovely, and is pretty rare for humans. Most of the time their laughter is no more than a grimace. Which is a pity. I mean, if I could laugh, I’d bring my eyes into it; that looks a whole lot better.

‘Hmm, so you’re looking for a dog on the small side? And you’d prefer a puppy?’

The angel nods.