Her name was Lola

When you were small, the world viewed through the ‘box was black and white and big - and mainly grown up too, with children’s term time programmes limited to a couple of hours a day. During the holidays though, along with the joy of dumping your satchel in some soon forgotten corner came the exotic delights of imported US tv series - long since digested by our American cousins but with great theme tunes, unfeasibly good looking and orthodontically perfect children and, best of all, guns. Amongst these was Champion the Wonder Horse who, à la Skippy, had a nose for crooks and kids stuck down abandoned mineshafts. But it was Champion’s canine sidekick, Rebel, who most impressed - not least when seizing said baddies somewhere deeply uncomfortable until the sheriff arrived.

And now we’ve our very own French version of Rebel – Lola – an alleged Alsatian / Labrador cross. She’s all pointy ears, jaws and legs (the labrador ‘life support system for a stomach’ part of her DNA not much in evidence) and the latest in a line of waifs and strays who’ve sniffed us out since we came here. Three weeks into her new life, she’s marginally less bonkers and while still resembling a four legged exocet, now stands still long enough to eat. Just like her predecessor, Sam – another Alsatian - she glued herself to the boss’s heel on arrival, eased effortlessly into the role of riding out and has dealt with the complexities of pack life by placing herself at the top.

Training’s still a work in progress and there are a few heart in mouth moments as she weaves in and out of the horses legs, blissfully unaware of four clumpy hooves and the 750kg of gee gee overhead. That said, her enthusiasm is boundless, she rarely buggers off in pursuit of the neighbour’s chickens and even deigns to listen to me. Occasionally. All we have to do now is find some villains to round up and to deliver to the gendarmerie. As long as it’s not at the weekend, when it’s shut.