Let me be clear.

"Gosh, look at that little bitch shake her booty" is not the sort of comment I usually make while watching television. But when you're watching Crufts, a whole new vocabulary suddenly becomes necessary.

We become instant experts on the gait of the Dandie Dinmont. We pass judgement on the quality of the bouffant of Standard Poodles. And, of course, it is entirely appropriate to use the words "stud" and "bitch" without irony (though never yet without a snigger).

The climax to this year's Crufts did not disappoint. Not only did we get a worthy Best in Show in the shape of Knopa the Russian-bred Scottish Terrier - whose precision cut beard is now the envy of many a hipster in Glasgow - but there was even a dramatic last-minute pitch invasion from a well-dressed "Mutts against Crufts" protester, who was eventually carried from the arena by four burly security men as the anorak-clad audience looked on aghast. Middle Britain collectively grumbled reasonably at its television. Even the ever-poised Clare Balding seemed shaken. (Sadly, said security staff were not around earlier to prevent the fatal poisoning of one of the competitors, prize-winning red setter Thendara Satisfaction).

It all made for great Sunday night television, obviously. And it reminded me of the time I looked after a pedigree dog for a week. Jinky the Chow Chow was one of the most beautiful canines I've ever seen, his huge golden mane turning heads wherever we went. And, being a cross between a cuddly lion and a teddy bear, he scored highly on the cute index too.

But looks aren't everything, as we all know, and I'm sure his owner won't mind me saying that he wasn't the brightest of beasts. In fact, he was the thickest dog I've ever met. My friend had warned me that he wasn't very good at following commands. Even "sit" was usually too much for Jinky's tiny mind to process. Playing with a ball was no fun, as Jinky couldn't work out the obvious logic that he was meant to get excited, chase the spherical thing and bring it back to the homey with a wag of that beautiful tale. I finally realised just how glaikit Jinky was when he kept banging his head trying to walk through closed glass doors.

At first I was a bit frustrated - this mutt clearly wasn't going to alert the authorities if I had an accident - but a quick Google search put a different spin on things. Chow Chows were apparently originally bred for their meat, you see, and I suppose food doesn't need to be brainy - in fact it's probably better that it isn't. In a study of dog intelligence, Chow Chows ranked 76th out of 79 breeds. Apparently only Bulldogs, Afghan Hounds and Basenjis are thicker. Jinky and I avoided glass doors from then on and got along just fine.