‘Yes,’ she told him, and went back to glowering.

‘My Dad says tomato sauce has too much salt and salt’s bad for blood pressure,’ the little boy ventured.

‘People who say rude things about dogs are bad for blood pressure,’ Rachel retorted, and there was a general chuckle from their growing audience. ‘So what are you intending to do with my hamburger?’

‘Watch.’ The man stooped and placed a piece of hamburger underneath an upturned dog dish. Then he stood back and let Digger’s lead go slack.

‘Dinner,’ he said.

Digger looked up at him. Adoring. Then the skinny, brown dog gazed around the crowd as if ensuring each and every eye was on him. He sniffed, placed a paw on top of the dish, crouched down, pushed with the other paw…The dish toppled sideways to reveal the piece of hamburger.

Digger looked around again as if awaiting applause. It came. He received his due and then delicately ate the hamburger.

Uh-oh.

‘Now it’s Penelope’s turn.’

‘She’ll get dirty,’ Rachel said, and there was a trace of worry in her voice. Penelope might be lovely, but her opposition was seriously smart.

‘We’ll put it up on her platform.’ The stranger’s smile was growing broader. ‘I’ll even wipe the ketchup off. Or maybe you could do it on your T-shirt.’

Ouch! ‘Watch your mouth.’

Another grin, but the entire pavilion was watching now and he didn’t stop. He placed the dish in front of Penelope’s nose. He broke a second piece of hamburger, showed it to Penelope and popped it underneath.

He backed away and left her to it.

Penelope sniffed. She sniffed again.

She whined.

She lay down in front of the dish. She stood up and barked. She shoved the dish sideways with her nose and barked again.

Nothing happened. She lay down and whined, pathos personified.