Abdullah,like all Afghan Hounds, flaunted his beauty with shameless pride.

Pasha, a magnificent golden Afghan, fathered Abdullah; we were told, by his owner and breeder, that he furtively jumped into an open window to mate with Kanda, his mother.

Only a week old, he was considered the biggest of the litter, yet the tyke easily swam in my mother's hand. He oozed cuteness as he squealed and wiggled like a jelly bean.

Two months later, parents returned to pick Abdul up, and while they were waiting to board the Dover -Calais ferry, they got their first taste of his cheekiness.

Fed two ham sandwiches but not satisfied, from the back seat he leaned forward and snatched my mother's entire roll. He was unapologetic-about the whole theft.

Unconditional love is not an Afghan trait, so we all had to work hard to win his approval and affection.

In the meantime, his beauty and aristocratic aloofness charmed the public.

Like a true diva, he craved attention and adoration which his regal appearance duly created while he strolled along the lakeside, my father in tow.

Used to hunt leopards and antelopes in the past, Abdul had the speed of an Arabian stallion; unleashed, he would bullet across fields in pursuit of imaginary prey while our pleads to return went unheeded.

Seeing we had no interest in dog shows, we kept his fur semi-long and allowed him to roll in the garden grass and, when still young, even in the rain, mud and snow; his motto was the dirtier the better.

Aloof with guests, he was not a pet one could command; he had an independent mind and would do things in his own time .. nevertheless, I did catch him often watching my parents with total loving devotion.