Cockapoo

Every single day feels like a special occasion to me, I haven't identified a boring one yet. I greet you with the same energy whether you left for eight hours or eight minutes. Match my enthusiasm or at least tolerate it fondly.

My poodle side keeps me sharp, my cocker side feels everything intensely, mostly joy, occasionally heartbreak over a closed door. I've never met a good mood I couldn't make bigger. Subtlety was never really on offer.

I bond hard and I don't do well with long stretches alone, real separation anxiety is common in my breed, not just dramatics. An empty flat for eight or more hours a day genuinely distresses me, so a midday check-in or a predictable routine matters. My curly coat traps heat too, so keep walks to the cooler hours.

You work from home, or close to it, or you've got a plan for the hours you're out. You like knowing my whole day bends around the moment you walk back in, because it genuinely does. And you don't mind sharing your morning coffee ritual with an audience.

I once greeted someone back from taking out the rubbish with the same enthusiasm as someone back from a year abroad. Ninety seconds, still worth celebrating.

Swipe right. I'm joyful, a little much, and thrilled that you're even reading this.