A man borrows a dog to walk round the coast of south-west England. Three decades later, I'm chortling over this book at a second-hand book stall and the nice lady in charge lets me have it for free. I'd have paid for it, really I would, because this book is hilarious. The dog is question is small and disreputable and wedded to city life - think Discworld's Gaspode but without the brains. It is singularly unpleasant to be around (its owners break up and fight over who doesn't get to keep it), largely due to the fact that Boogie's one great talent in life is a hideous, nuclear-level flatulence and Wallington has to share a tent with it.

This is really just a story about a man who takes a snide, stinking little beast on a walk. It's gentle and easy to read and nothing much happens but it's still deeply, deeply entertaining.