We were at Ken Norman’s farm, Thornwood, Maria was riding Chloe, Red was sitting quietly along the edge of the riding ring, four loud and assertive guinea hens – many farmers use them as watch-hens, they squawk loudly and long when strangers appear – came marching right up to Red, making an ear-shattering din.

Red, who is the Dean Martin of dogs, didn’t budge, he just ignored the hens who couldn’t run him off, so they were satisfied with honking past him loudly and persistently. They met their match, I expect Red sometimes to be enjoying a Martini in the evening as she flirts with the ladies and remains unruffled by life.