TOP DOG

Mother-of-two and PR aficionado Joanne Greenep gets in a cat flap

In the whole cat versus dog debate, I fall heavily on the side of canine. Cats are great if you want something about as warm-hearted as Skeletor slinking about your abode, but for me, mutts are where it’s at. Some folk reminisce about Hendrix at Woodstock, I'd say watching the Southern Golden Retrievers Display team bound about Crufts was a pretty seminal moment. Have a look for yourself here – it makes me well-up every time.

I always knew I’d end up with a soggy-nosed canine comrade, although I was never as set on kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love my familial tribe to the moon and back, but when I was wondering about 'what it would be like to be a grown-up’, there was always a slobbering hound in the picture (and for a big chunk of the early 2000s, Ben Cohen England-Rugby-hotness featured pretty heavily, too).

A decade or so on and the dream has become reality. Ben’s had a lucky escape and we have a brown lab. Frank is three and acts exactly the same way as my three-year-old child; he doesn’t listen to anyone, exhibits little-to-no rational thought, takes an avid interest in watching me go to the loo and wet his bed last night.

He will also scoff anything: baby monitors, batteries, tea lights, corks, glitter and Lego have all disappeared on his watch. He's either building a pretty funky den in the garden, or he's got the constitution of a recycling truck. Oh and he loves my kids' toys; countless times I've walked into a room to find him chewing poor Sophie (of "La Giraffe" fame) – usually with my one-year-old sitting next to him gnawing on his bone.

But aside from the much-touted bacterial advantages of having of a mutt, Frank does come with other benefits. The irrepressible, barmy display of affection when you get home, the irrepressible, barmy display of affection when you take him for a walk. His irrepressible barminess is the perfect antidote to a world of cynicism and relentless self-control.

Unapologetic enthusiasm is Frank’s thing. And I love it. As the pouty self-love of Instagram surges, he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks and he's never one to filter his emotions. You want steely aloofness, get a cat.

You want a comrade, a partner, a slobbering mass of giddy excitability? You want a cuddly, honest presence around your kids that gallumphes through life with wild abandon? Team canine all the way.