I'm thinking about my dog today. She died a year ago. Died and died, by the way, we went and put her down at the vet's. She fell asleep in my lap and was clearly less affected by the moment than my wife and I were. We cried like children.

Signe was a beloved Jack Russel. In fact, I think most people liked Signe better than me. People cuddled with her, gave her treats, let her sit in their lap, jump up on the sofa where no other dog had ever been, etc. To be honest, I also liked Signe better than myself. She was our second dog, even though we swore never to get another one after our Labrador Gillis. He was also amazing in his own way and with an eating disorder that made him constantly hungry. An evolutionary defect that had the positive effect that as long as you held out something edible, you could get him to do anything. Unfortunately, his long-term memory didn't seem to be great, because he forgot what he was taught almost immediately. Or maybe he was so clever that he pretended to forget in order to get another bribe.

I don't know. But when you look into your beloved dog's eyes, you hope to catch a glimpse of intelligence, caring, keen friendship, or why not love? Anthropomorphism is the fancy word for attributing human characteristics to animals. But it feels like most of us only apply it to animals that we don't plan to eat. If we saw fragments of our own emotional register in other animals, there would probably not be any Christmas ham or turkey. Attributing animal characteristics to humans is called zoomorphism. Often it is negative characteristics that are emphasised. Eating like a pig, being slippery as an eel, being scared as a hare. Hung like a horse also occurs, but it’s unclear whether this is a compliment or a handicap. Yes, this is how my thoughts wander sometimes. Like a donkey. Anyway, we have decided not to get a new dog. Neither of us has the psyche to put another one to sleep.

However, there will be a turkey at Christmas