More dogs than people eating breakfast at the Blairgowrie cafe.

It's true. I counted twenty-seven dogs and only twenty-five people at the outdoor cafe.

Majority: Golden Retrievers. Then Yellow Labradors, Black Labradors, Cavaliers, Beagles, Poodles, standard and miniature, those little grey terriers with mustaches, a Spoodle, a couple of German Shepherds and a bunch of friendly mutts. One woman had a Shih-Tzu sitting up on its own chair.

And of course, Goldie the elderly Brittany who tears around like a pup and Billy the Greyhound who is so shy and retiring and has such beautifully 'mascaraed' Cleopatra-like eyes people think he's a girl.

It was a beautiful still Autumn morning, the sky meeting the sea in a gleaming seamless silver haze. We walked the three kilometres to the cafe and took up a table in the sun. (We had intended going for a 10 kilometre run, but decided a lazy amble to the food store in the autumn sunshine to eat bacon and eggs and drink coffee would be a grand alternative. That's dedication to training!)

Basically, if you have a dog and you like coffee, you eat at the Blairgowrie cafe. And if you don't, you don't. Dogless people are quite welcome though. As are smokers, they can sit outside.

Billy lay on the concrete (taking about five seconds to get down, he's like a camel when it comes to lowering himself) while Goldie peremptorily bumped down onto her haunches and regarded the scene with the haughty magisterial air only a senior female alpha dog (is this possible, I don't know) can muster, issuing the odd truncated bark at one or another dog.

There was a fierce-looking Doberman as well, tied up to the railing. A girl of about four came out from the cafe and started hugging his neck.

We get a lot of interest in Billy. A man with a beagle asked me how energetic he is. That's ironic, coming from a Beagle owner, thinking the Greyhound's going to be hard work.

People are surprised when they find out Greyhounds are couch potatoes. Literally in Billy's case - he has a double 'fold-out' sofa that converts to a bed. Goldie has a regular dog-pad, she's happy with that, although she does occasionally climb up onto Billy's bed. They look hilarious, sitting there like bookends.