The Art of Dog-Sitting

This wasn't the first time that I'd been left in charge of Harry, and hopefully, it won't be the last.

Harry is a Tibetan Terrier. He's five years old. He belongs to my cousin Nick and is very much a beloved member of the family.

Summer vacation means that Nick's family head off to Mallorca for a couple of weeks, but that means alternative arrangements have to be made for Harry. I'm always happy to volunteer to be in charge.

The easiest way to do it is to move into Nick's house in Forest Hill. That way I can keep an eye on the house, plus it means that Harry can stay in his familiar surroundings.

One of the best things about this dog-sitting assignment is that Harry is possibly the most low-maintenance dog that I've ever come across. He rarely barks – most of the time we seem to communicate telepathically.

Harry is the only Tibetan Terrier that I've encountered, so I'm not sure if he's typical of the breed but I'm guessing that Tibetan Terriers generally have a fairly relaxed temperament.

Apparently, they're not really terriers at all, although they do look a bit like them which is where the English description of them came from. They do however come from Tibet – prized as companions, watchful, bringers of good luck.

Harry doesn't need a lot of exercise. On weekends I take him for a quick walk around the park in the morning, and then that's it for the day. The rest of the time he pretty much just sleeps, occasionally going out for a wander around the garden, but pretty much just sleeps.

During the week I've been taking him with me to work. Fortunately, I work in an office which is totally dog-friendly. There's a relatively straightforward train journey and a bit of a walk to get to the office, so the daily commute and a quick walk at lunchtime is all the exercise that Harry needs.

In the office, he's adored by everyone. He's a fairly zen presence in the office, keeping a watchful eye on everything that's going on, but most of the time just sleeping.

Harry doesn't really seem to eat a lot of food. His standard diet is roast chicken mixed with some dried dog food. But I can't seem to get him interested at all in eating that, it sits in his bowl and he turns his nose up at it. He's a bit more interested in whatever I'm eating. At lunchtimes I've succumbed to buying something like a souvlaki or a steak sandwich from the food vans in Bermondsey Square and also buying an extra skewer of meat for Harry. It's ridiculous, but he seems to like it.

If I had one complaint about Harry it would be that he's not particularly affectionate. He'll patiently let anyone stroke him or pat him, but that's about the extent of it. He doesn't like being picked up, stoically suffering the indignity if we're confronted by an escalator or a crowded tube. He doesn't like sitting close to me on the couch – if I try and snuggle in next to him he gets up with a sigh and moves to the other side of the room.

He does, however, seem to like a bit of company at night. When Nick and the family are home, Harry sleeps downstairs in the lounge-room while everyone else is upstairs in their respective bedrooms. However, he seems a bit unsettled in their absence and seems happier to sleep in the same room as my boyfriend Liviu and I. Sometimes he'll sleep on the bed, sometimes on the floor, sometimes he'll just wander in to check that we're still there and then go and find somewhere else to sleep. It's almost as if he's got a bit of separation anxiety, worried that we're going to leave him.

I love dog-sitting Harry, but it reminds me that my lifestyle isn't compatible with adopting a dog of my own. It's not just that my flat is small, and there's no garden. It's not just that I travel a lot. What if the dog that I adopted wasn't just like Harry? He's set the bar high – I'm not sure I could love another dog as much as I love this strange, aloof, wise and watchful Tibetan Terrier.