We’ve started to call him the Baby Monster. Gus has launched a reign of terror against the boisterous Fate, Queen of the Realm, who until last week was preying regularly on the new puppy, stealing his toys and treats and hiding them under the dining room table where she could hoard them and protect them – growling if Gus came near.

I stayed out of this, I don’t believe in interfering with dog or people politics. Last week, the tables began to turn as Gus grew more confident and wily. He launched a striking counter offensive, sort of like Patton charging through Belgium. He travels below the radar, in a network of tunnels and small spaces beneath tables, chairs and under sofas. He springs on Fate when she is sleeping, or looking in another direction.

He leaps out barking, grabs a bone or two, often twice his size and drags it quickly under the table, beneath a chair or sofa while an astonished Fate leaps up and gives chase. Fate has never seen anything like this, she is simply nonplussed.

Gus pays attention, and he somehow knows my office is a no-noise or trouble zone. He drags his stolen bounty onto the dog bed underneath my desk and stares defiantly out at Fate, who stares in frustration from the doorway. She knows better than to start anything in my study.

Gus chews happily on his stolen bone, pausing to taunt Fate by barking at her and sometimes taking the bone closer to her, then withdrawing hurriedly.

As I write this, he  is under there now, waiting to sneak out and raid again. Fate is no fool, she will think of something. She is the smartest dog I have ever known, and she takes her  treats seriously. This isn’t over.