For all intensive purposes, I am a rural lass. A lot of my childhood was spent playing in long grass, minding the snakes, and running with the dogs in the opposite direction of where the baboons were.

Time spent between farms and the beach just aren’t the same without big, blustery, rascally canines.

This is the same for everyone, right?

Wrong. Dating and Dogs. Not the homosapien type. I used to think I’d never date a guy my family didn’t like. Now, I couldn’t bear dating someone my pets don’t like. Well, now I have a cat who flirts with anyone with so much of a millilitre more testosterone than me. So, most guys would be ok. But… taking them home to the folks? Now that’s a real test.

My Dad has a clutch of amazingly beautiful, rambunctious and relatively rare dogs. They’re snugly and protective and lovable. When you get to know them. Until then, it’ll be growls and maybe even a nip if you aren’t well-behaved. Boyfriend I’ve been in the longest relationship with: was so tight with The Clutch that it’d be very hard to pry him away from ball games in order to get him to eat dinner.

Boyfriend that lasted 1 date: when he saw them from the comfort of his car, called me on my mobile inside Dad’s house and asked me to lock them in the garage. Because he had allergies. Err. Ya.

My Mum on the other hand, has two very conniving female canines. Sure, they look all docile and sweet. And then… if you aren’t nice and wonderful and normal, HEY! You’ll find their muzzle in your crotch. Yes boys, you’d better be nice.

I worked for a cosmetic company for years. I was rrrrreally keen on this boy I was going on a date with. In my infinite wisdom, I decided it was a really smart idea to wear a pheromone fragrance sold with a warning (I kid you not). So arrived, doused in the stuff. Bad move. Fido the frisky German Shepherd thought I was THE best looking bitch he’d ever seen.

There’s so much you can tell about a person by how they handle the elderly, babies, celebrities… and a ferocious dog humping their leg.