Yes, Watson is large. The vet has put him on a diet — 74 grams per day of a prescription kibble that, if price is any guide, must be made of gilded nightingales’ tongues — in the hope that he will shed enough avoirdupois to be safely anaesthetized for a thorough cleaning of his fangs. He has arthritis in his hips and lower back, which accounts for his reluctance to jump higher than the seat of the comfy chair.

A grey and sullen Christmas Day in Ottawa, with a forecast low tonight of -24°C. Time for the knee-high woollen socks, sheepskin coat, serious hat and no-kidding mittens.

This is the first Christmas in many years with no travel and no major cooking. Such a relief. It’s like being a teenager again.