I have at last been formally introduced to the newest member of the family, one Pinky Winters, aka "Two Scoops" the dog.

It has not been possible for my daughter to visit me because of her broken leg and I have not been able to visit her for a variety of reasons, not unconnected with my recent stay in hospital, but as last she was well enough to make the trip down to Brighton.

I was informed of his Lordship's attendance in time to ensure that suitable arrangements could be made for his comfort and I awaited the arrival of the two of them, splendidly chauffeured by my son-in-law.

Pinky did not take too kindly to the fond embraces exchanged between me and my daughter, he having established squatters' rights over her while she was immobilised, and his large head and shoulders eventually won the unequal struggle and separated us.

Then began the task of being officially accepted by the new master of the family.

I was snuffled over, licked, smelt and finally given a wag of the tail, which I hoped implied acceptance. But Pinky has not finished with me yet.

A voyage of discovery ensued, with Pinky finding new and interesting smells, nooks and crannies, all to be investigated before I was officially stamped okay.

A little light refreshment was requested from among assembled goodies and then a post-prandial saunter with my son-in-law firmly attached to a lead of heroic proportions, leaving my daughter and me to have a good gossip. On his return he did a thorough check to make sure no one had changed any essentials and then it was time to tackle the stairs.

My stairs are uncarpeted shiny wood, unlike the ones at his home, which are carpeted. I may have to think about changing my lifestyle, I fear, as it became clear he did not find them to his liking, as he nearly precipitated a disaster by trying to turn round mid-climb and found he had no toe hold.

The troops, in the shape of my son-in-law and myself, rallied round to save the day but I got a distinct impression that upstairs was not high on his list of things to discover, much, it must be whispered, to my considerable relief.

By the time we said goodbye I was given a somewhat reluctant snuffle and put on notice that the new boss might want a few alterations before taking me completely to his bosom but on the whole I had been accepted. When darling Freebie was alive she and I used to have daft conversations.

I feel I have some way to go before Pinky and I share our thoughts but I am working on it. He is encouraged to snuffle at me down the phone when I ring so maybe on his next visit we shall have established some lines of communications.

I rather hope he does come to approve of me as long as I am not required to take him walkies as he is rather large, even though he is only about 17 months old.

He has been taken to doggy training school and, while not one of the prize winners, he has done pretty well for a rescue dog who has not been too well treated.

My daughter was not at all keen to have another dog after Freebie died but Pinky has made a good companion to her while she has been housebound.

My granddaughter takes him from time to time so he is getting used to being in different company and is not so twitched as he used to be. With loving care and a good home we are all hoping he will grow up to become a responsible citizen.

Between you and me I hope he will take to me as his granny - maybe I can bribe him with a chocolate biscuit. On the other hand a good solid bone might be more to the mark! I'll let you know.