The sixth amble - and I'm being stalked.

Christmas season is nearly apon us! Like many of us, our family heralds Christmas as being official when the Coca Cola advert comes on (a lot can be said for Cocacola-isation right now) even if that particular advert did come on in November...
I'm also waiting to see the version of the John Lewis advert where you get to see what's in the box (Squirrel? Sorry, old Weeble and Bob joke) although it appears to have been wrecked by a Gordon Ramsey parody of the whole affair. Never mind.
Can't help but feel festive now I've filled up on the big three - Muppet's Christmas Carol, the Grinch and Santa Clause, essential Christmas viewing in the Jackson household. We've been trawling the aisles of R and J (affectionately dubbed 'Rubbish and Junk'), checking out the baby trees and assorted decorations (many of which are bigger than the trees), wrapping pressies (fewer than normal this year: it's so easy to overspend so this year I've stuck to a one pressie policy and saved well over £300, at the risk of being labelled a stinge) and spraying the whole house with cranberry air freshener. People get tenderer, too. I can throw open the floor of what life was like for my parents growing up and almost expect nostalgic ramblings by the gas fire.
As to the stalker...well, labrador retrievers should come with a User Guide. I can see the advert already. A close up on a furry, beautiful black head, the wet nose, the endearing eyes, pleading at you wordlessly through the screen. A deep voice-over. 'This dog is neglected. This dog is maltreated. This dog is starving. Her owner hasn't paid her any attention for approximately 2.5 seconds and the last time she was fed was ten minutes ago.'
I'm not kidding. Labs are amazing dogs, but instead of those crying dolls they ought to issue people with a lab puppy and tell them it's a toddler substitute - people would run screaming! Millie is super-clingy, follows me everywhere (if I walk past her, it's an invitation for her to follow me), and I quite often turn around to find her attached to my jeans leg. And no way can you shut the door on her - 2.5 minutes in the toilet?! Are you serious? You can't expect her to wait that long!
Well, at least the remedy's simple: one half hour romp to the park +kong + bowl of food = one happy lab.
Well, if I don't go now she won't stop whining, so I guess I'd better go.