Well, no. He's not my dog. He's a good dog waiting patiently outside a very nice deli while his owner was inside.
That's my husband you can just see inside the shop buying himself a meat pie! Did he make it out of the shop and past the dog with the pie intact? Well of course he did because the little black dog is a very good little black dog. Unlike my large grey dog, Misty, who this morning took off after a muntjac deer on the common near the cottage we're staying at in Suffolk. Half an hour of calling later she came back panting like a steam train but luckily not with a deer hanging out of her mouth.
And that was just today! Yesterday she went after a huge herd of red deer the other side of the common. They were standing at the edge of some reed beds at the bottom of a slope. Misty doesn't know what reed beds are - they just looked like a field of reeds to her. Until she rushed in after the deer, that is. Now she knows what's underneath the reeds - very wet, very black mud!
Misty's a bad dog!