When I was about seven I owned a hen. She was a Rhode Island Red cross Light Sussex, and her name was Jane. I trained her to go for walks with me, wearing a soft braid harness and a lead. I held a short bamboo cane, and when I wanted her to turn left I pressed gently but firmly with the cane on her right wing; likewise I pressed her left wing to go right.

One day we walked up the village and went into Fryer the Grocer's shop. Jane paused inside the shop to lay an egg. A fearsome dispute then broke out, because Mr Fryer claimed the egg was his legal property, having been laid in his shop. That wasn't at all how I saw things.

The case in fact failed to reach the High Court, because no lawyer could find any precedent. My father, always a prudent man, then took out insurance against any legal costs or damages his children might land him with before we were of age.