From "The Widdle-Wuddle Stuff" - my new book about being a house-sitter.

Twice, a week or so before starting a house-sitting stint, I went to spy out the multiple dogs that would be in my care. Between that reccy and the owners going away one of the dogs in each of the households died. I imagined the pitiful horror of (me) having been the one to find the canine corpse; running to fetch someone. Who exactly? The canine police and/or canine coroner? Agonising between…