🐾 Laura and Clive

Clive Hates the Rain, But Loves the Pub
— by Laura Jones

Clive is not what you'd call an “outdoorsy” dog.

He’ll trot through Hampstead Heath like he owns it — until the drizzle starts. Then it’s full stop. Eyes of betrayal. He’ll only move again if I promise a detour via the pub.

That’s Clive. Stubborn as hell, but also the gentlest presence in my life. He doesn’t care about my unread emails or if I’m late for pilates. He cares about smells. About sitting on the park bench like a tiny mayor. About the roast chicken crumbs I dropped on the floor.

He slows everything down, in the best way.
Walking with him isn’t exercise. It’s a ritual. A check-in. A reminder to pay attention.

I’ve had fancier dogs. Fussier dogs. But Clive? He’s just... mine. And he’s the only one who truly gets me.

He’s my everyday dog. Half grump, half soulmate. Fully perfect.