Sarah Todd: Our sensitive lurcher suddenly finds he is all grown up

It's hard to believe that this week our huge hairy brute of a dog finally got to this important milestone. Over the years of doing this column it's become clear that the minute an animal/child/building project is praised something comes along to upset the apple cart. So we won't say he's perfect, but he's certainly getting there. Many readers kindly came up with name suggestions, so there's been that connection since we got him at eight weeks-old. One regret is not calling him Ralph; it would have really suited him. To anybody thinking about getting a lurcher it is perhaps worth saying they have super temperaments and don't need half as much exercise as people imagine.

If only there'd been a pound for every time somebody's said "you'll need to go a long way to tire him out love". The truth is that after a 20 minute run around he's more than ready to have a nap.

One of his highlights has to be at a country fair last year, when he was entered in the lurcher show. We were aware of some funny looks and hurried discussions, then the judge came out with a measuring stick and declared he was too big and would have to go in the next class. Shame-faced, it felt like we'd tried to pass a thoroughbred off in the Shetland Pony Grand National.

Another funny was walking along the pavement on the way home from taking him for a walk. Under one arm was a pheasant, knocked by a car and picked up for the cats. Somebody stopped to ask if we'd been poaching. Lurchers have that kind of reputation.

On the downside, there's only our hens look more miserable than him if it's raining. He's also quite sensitive.

We used to have a spaniel and you could shout and scream and it wouldn't take a blind bit of notice. Tetley hates to think he might be in trouble.

Anyway, he didn't get a party this year but had a good run around with a lady Labrador of his acquaintance.

Like Tetley, we've started to get fed up with the wintry weather. It's been good to have some snow, but we've had enough of it now. It brought the extra job of collecting more straw – from a farm that offered us the choice of oat, wheat or barley – and now there's hay to find.

In a "normal" winter we'd have had more than enough. It was interesting to note that at the farm where we got the straw, the old-fashioned small-sized bales are still indispensable for traditional buildings.

Anyway, we couldn't stay and help bed up the pigs. We had to see a man about a dog...