Park Life

The huskies are gathered, sniffing the air, smelling all manner of scents on the breeze. They should be about to pull a sled, haul it over snow and ice to where the pre-skinned seal-cubs are waiting, dying. Instead they are on a leash with a couple of pugs, smelling the musk of the Hoxton joggers as they archly circulate Shoreditch Park. Oh the indignity of being tethered with the most ridiculous of all canines. The Pug. Can it even be regarded as a real dog?