LIKE millions of people around the country, I was drawn to the final of Britain's Got Talent.

 

I waited with bated breath to find out who the lucky winner was.

Who would win the £250k prize?

And there it was. A dog.

But not just any dog.

No. This was a wonder dog called Matisse.

Matisse reminded me of Lassie, who was the wonder dog of my era.

Everyone wanted a dog like Lassie.

And growing up, we had a family dog who looked like Lassie, we even called her Lassie, but the resemblance ended there because our poor untrained dog behaved just like your average pooch.

Like most children, I expected her to do every trick the TV star dog did.

And, obviously because she didn't, we were disappointed.

Later, I was miffed to learn the real TV Lassie was actually a male dog.

And, as we also discovered after Matisse had won the top prize that he wasn't everything we thought. When we thought he was walking along tight ropes suspended 10 feet above the ground, his owner had in fact substituted him for a doggie double.

Now, I don't know about you, but I didn't really care that Matisse had had a 'doggie double'.

I was just impressed that a dog, ANY DOG, could walk on a tight rope.

And it made me think about just how clever dogs really are, and how much they are part of our lives.

There are mobility assistance dogs, military service dogs, mental health assistance dogs.

Then there are diabetes dogs who learn to recognise symptoms of low-blood sugar, and even, alert dogs who warn their owners of an impending seizure.

And don't get me started on the mind-boggling cancer detection dogs who are able to detect cancer with 98% accuracy.

I couldn't help thinking that every one of those canines would have been far more useful to have around the house than my ex-husband ever was.

And then my thoughts turned to the good old trusted guide dogs which assist partially sighted or blind people.

Over the years I have had a few 'instances' with guide dogs.

The most recent being on my morning commute by train to Glasgow.

When possible, I sit in the same seat, in the same carriage, facing the same direction.

I did notice that, on occasion, a blind man and his guide dog would board a few stops after me, by which time the train was always packed.

Most times he would sit in the seat across the aisle from me.

However, on this occasion, while I was sitting comfortably in my usual position, the man and his dog headed in my direction.

Feeling his way along the carriage for a seat, he finally flopped down opposite me while holding on to his dog.

The huge dog then decided to lie down in the tiny leg area between the facing passengers, and had no option but to sprawl itself across my feet, and those of the other three passengers.

But even though I very quickly couldn't feel my feet, it wasn't really a problem on the 25-minute journey, until I realised my stop was soon approaching.

Bags over my shoulder, I attempted to stand upright.

I managed to wriggle one foot out from beneath the heavy animal, and took a deep breath.

After all, I knew that I only had one shot at making it in one piece as I endeavoured to take a giant step over the dog and into the aisle.

And, just as I lifted my leg over its head ... the blinkin beast decided to sit upright.

Right up my skirt!

So there I was in the packed train. Legs akimbo, with a large guide dog's head up my skirt and nothing to hold on to whilst the train rocked back and forth.

I couldn't step forward or backwards.

Unlike the rest of the carriage, the blind man was totally oblivious to the goings on.

And his dog, being expertly trained, sat upright like a statue under the darkness of my skirt whilst panting warm air on my legs.

Smirking passengers, despite witnessing my dilemma, did nothing but grimace at my predicament until a young guy standing nearby kindly offered me his arm to stabilise me and allow me to step over the motionless beast.

Shaking like a leaf and mortified, I stumbled on to the platform, and was never so glad to get off a train in my life.

Dogs?

Yes, they certainly are a man's best friend - Just not mine.

PS. You may not be surprised to know that since the last humiliating incident, I now sit in a different carriage. Just in case.