Just over a month has passed since Dilyn — the adorable Jack Russell cross rescue puppy — entered No10 Downing Street.
By all accounts, the cheeky pup has settled with ease into his new life at the seat of power, with his new parents, Prime Minister Boris Johnson and his partner, Carrie Symonds.
But in these turbulent political times, one wonders, what stormy scenes has Dilyn witnessed?
How is he getting on with fellow resident Larry the Downing Street cat, not to mention Bailey, Chancellor Sajid Javid’s cavapoo, who lives next door?
And what encounters has he had with Boris’s special adviser Dominic Cummings?
Dilyn’s Instagram account has already picked up hundreds of followers.
Now, as luck would have it, he has allowed the Mail a special peek in The Secret Diary Of Dilyn The Downing Street Dog, aged 19¾ (weeks).
I’m top dog around here: September 2 — What a day. As I entered the big black door of No 10, I looked up at the window and saw — horror of horrors — a tabby cat giving me the evil eye. I’ve discovered that this is Larry, the boss of Downing Street. When I get a bit bigger, I’ll remind him how things work with dogs and cats
Smarter than shaggy Boris: Later in the day, I focused on ignoring that cat. My mum, Carrie, is lovely and cuddly, while my Dad, Boris, seems pretty cool, too — although he should get his fur groomed. He’s looking a bit shaggy. He kept muttering about Brexits. I think they’re a kind of biscuit. But check out my new threads: a smart new red scarf. I’ve also got a great big house with a huge garden and more Persian rugs to pee on than I can count
I can’t stay pup all night: It wasn’t that long ago that I was just a humble, wonky-jawed scruff rescued from a puppy farm in Carmarthenshire — but just look at me now. I am one lucky pup. And I’m getting used to this life of luxury. On night one, I couldn’t wait to get in my basket (after updating my Instagram account, of course). Night all
A perfect pick-me-up from my mum and dad: Such a crazy day. I went down to the garden with Mum and Dad while lots of people took my photograph. Later, I met Bailey, a cavapoo who lives next door with her dad, Saj. She’s pretty clever, and almost as cute as me. Later, I cuddled up to Mum and Dad on the sofa and we watched 101 Dalmatians. Dad started chortling when Cruella de Vil came on and he told me Cruella used to live at No.10
Election winners and snoozers: September 14 — At breakfast today, Dad was bending Mum’s ear about someone called Dave. Bailey said he used to belong to a family called the Camerons who lived here before. ‘Is he coming back?’ I asked Bailey. ‘The Camerons are never coming back to Downing Street.’ ‘So what’s the problem?’ I asked. ‘It all goes back to the Bullingdon Club,’ said Bailey enigmatically. I needed a snooze on Mummy’s jumper after all that gossip
It’s time for a big tear-up: September 18 — Today we watched something on telly called the Supreme Court. It wasn’t very exciting but Mum and Dad were glued to the spectacle. In fact, Dad was looking a bit worried. I thought I had done something wrong. Not wishing to disappoint him, I decided to tear apart the best part of a toilet roll before anyone even noticed. But at least I’ve learned a new word — ‘prorogue’. I’ve heard it a lot more recently than my favourite words — walkies and din-dins
Looking like Jack the lad: Tonight, I had my first official engagement. I got all dressed up in a Union Jack scarf to meet a gathering of military personnel. I was a bit nervous, but Mum was brilliant and kept me cuddled up to her the whole night and tickled my tummy. I didn’t have to do anything apart from look cute, which I’m really brilliant at. People seemed much more excited to meet me than Dad
Someone’s in the doghouse (but not me): September 30 — Daddy doesn’t like the Sunday papers. They make Mummy shout at him. Last week, she went potty about someone called Jennifer Arcuri and then this week she was going on about someone called Charlotte Edwardes. Today, the housekeeper sneaked in and removed the plates from the kitchen (and had a go at the wine stains on the sofa). I’m on my best behaviour at the moment
What does Dilyn mean?
Dilyn is a Welsh word, a nod to the dog’s Welsh origin, which means ‘to follow’ or ‘pursue’.
It is also said to mean ‘loyal’ when used as a name in Ireland.
According to the website Urban Dictionary, the name is also used to refer to someone who is considerate or respectful.