My riding boots have been in my wardrobe a while. So before I leave the house they deserve some TLC. Slave grovels at my feet. As I stand at the fireplace and place my boot on his face. While he struggles to lick them. With so many seams. I don’t want any chance of muck on them. They have been a favourite of mine for many years. He, of course, crawls around at the end of my leash. Could his life be any more perfect? I doubt it.