Up all night: Puppy love

It's gallery season and I just love putting on my autumn coat and berry - red lipstick and chatting to art aficionados. My neighbour Harriet loves to come along too but mainly to drink the free wine and take the mickey out of the art.

I've got a feeling the exhibition we are visiting tonight will be up my street. It's at Fred's in Vyner Street and it's a collection of early 20th-century photo postcards of clowns and circus freaks.

Outside the gallery, Annette is smoking dressed in a white fur stole. Hanging off her arm is Timothy - she met him last week at the Harrods Pet Spa.

They hit it off after their dogs got amorous together.

We exchange art-show kisses and I scoop up Timothy's French bulldog Napoleon for a cuddle.

The dog attracts a man who comes over and chats to me about his Great Dane called Bismarck.

"So, what do you do?" I ask the stranger.

"I make sculptures from wooden chopsticks," he replies.

As he starts to explain which brand of chopsticks is best, I shuffle backwards into the gallery to get away from him, fixing my gaze on a postcard of some Victorian boys dressed in leopardskin "strong man" outfits.

Staring at the same postcard is a familiar face.

It's Annette's former best buddy, Reese. Annette and Reese always had the hots for each other but never did anything about it because she was going out with his best friend.

I sneak outside to tell Annette before Reese notices me, and before I've finished explaining she shoves her puppy into Timothy's arms and rushes inside.

She's inside for quite a while, and just as it starts to get uncomfortable outside, Neanderthal turns up. He's very drunk - he's been on the gallery circuit all week. While I'm looking forward to a night of blissful blotto sex, Annette bustles out. "I think I'd better go home. I've got a casting in the morning," she says, plucking her dog, Dorothy, from Timothy's clutches and refusing his chivalry as he offers to walk her to the station.

"I'll be fine on my own, darling," she says, blowing us a kiss and walking off - not on her own at all, but with Reese in tow. Timothy looks horrified. Reese smiles. Dorothy squeals and strains on her lead - her own relationship with Napoleon the bulldog has been sidelined. Reese picks her up and she immediately pees over his shoes. He looks horrified. Timothy smiles.