Walking my black dog

Despite my telling our neighbour that I’m too much of a pushover ever to be a suitable pet owner, I’m surprised to find myself to be the undisputable owner of a great shaggy, black dog. It seems to enjoy my company, and I’m loath to push it away. I’m such a wuss when it comes to animals. Besides, I think its former owner may have died on it. It’s forever looking at me sadly and saying let’s go walkies down to Hades. But I think it’s best, for now, to settle for walkies above ground.
The only time it leaves my side, dwindles and fades into the shadows, is when I’m trying to catch up with my book-keeping – such boring work that even my black dog can’t stand it. Hooray. I think.