Our first trip abroad with Nobby, the three-legged Dally, and we approach it with trepidation - there's good reason why he was renamed 'Nobby' rather than 'Jay', his original name, given when we were deluded enough to think him cute and innocent.
There are storms in the Bay of Biscay and the Santander ferry is delayed by three hours. We anxiously read the shipping forecasts and hope that the worst of the storms will have passed by the time we board. Do dogs suffer from sea sickness? We strongly suspect they do and anticipate spending the 24 hours of our (luxury-priced) cruise aboard the Pont Aven, cleaning up after the dog which everyone else innocently believes to be cute and helpless - after all, he's a three-legged Dally so couldn't possibly harbour sly and devious thoughts.
I've been practicing getting him to wear a muzzle for the past two weeks. He hates other dogs with a vengeance and we just know that he's likely to try to pick a fight with somebody bigger than himself in the lift. We decide that Graham will pin him in the back corner of the lift in order to try to avoid trouble.
How wrong can you be? On boarding the ferry, the grumpy dog we know and love appeared to undergo a total personaliy transplant. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. No growling - no need for the muzzle, after all!