Miranda Hart had never had a best friend – until she got her dog.
The 43-year-old comedienne went through her entire time at school and university without ever forming a friendship that was special even though she had lots of pals.
After finishing her education, Miranda’s attention turned to her career and she stopped worrying about forming a unique bond with someone but when she made the decision to get a pet pooch she realised she had been lonely.
Miranda took home her Shih-Tzu Bichon Frise cross Peggy in 2007 after getting her as a puppy from the cleaning lady that worked on BBC sitcom ‘Not Going Out’ and found a true mate in her loving mutt.
Writing in The Daily Telegraph newspaper, the comic revealed: "I had just ended a relationship when Peggy came into my life and realising while I had lots of mates, but no one who knew me deeply; no friend I felt comfortable being truly post-break up vulnerable with (stained track suit bottoms and the worst kind of tears – snotty), Peggy filled the hole … She listened (and never interrupted). She needed me. She followed me everywhere. She was the most loyal creature that ever breathed. She loved me unconditionally. She never judged. Not even if I napped, farted or had more of an interest in food than she did. Surely that’s the definition of a perfect best friend?
"With hindsight I realise I was lonely. I had never really let anyone in. played the role of court jester to as wide a group of people as I could, had been the strong one, and fiercely independent. Peggy taught me the need for need."
Miranda loves Peggy so much she lets the canine sleep on her bed, go wherever she wants in her house and she loves to get kisses from her.
However, the former ‘Call the Midwife’ star never lets Peggy lick her on the lips because her four-legged friend licks her own bottom.
Miranda – who has written a book called ‘Peggy & Me’ about her life with her pet – shared: "Every morning now you will find Peggy waiting patiently on her blanket at the end of my bed (don’t judge!) and when I wake up she runs excitedly in tiny tight circles full of joy that we have another day together. Whatever my mood, whatever I have to face, it can but bring me a smile. Peggy will bark at visitors to protect me as the door bell goes, but then brings them gifts when she realises they’re safe (these can include bones, asthma sprays from my hand bag and once a sanitary towel – mortifying). And when they go I tell her what we chatted about, and she gives me one lick on the nose (never the lips – a part of dog ownership I never understand, for they LICK THEIR OWN BOTTOMS) and settles down in a tight ball next to me on the sofa as we watch TV – no need to fight over the remote with a dog.
If you still don’t understand this friendship, I’ll say this – despite her being ‘just a dog’ the last nine years with Peggy have taught me that being in connection, having a dependent being you are responsible for, and sharing life with someone is key to all aspects of well-being. My little dog taught me that I did need a best friend or two. (sic)"