This week I didn’t get a dog called Zoe. It turned out she was mad – constantly scanning the environment, looking for threats. She paid not a jot of attention to people. I knew we wouldn’t see her again if she was let off the lead. She would bolt and keep on going, not least because she didn’t recognise us as owners she should return to. She reminded me of the attitude I met when I went freelance. The doom merchants, like mad Zoe, would...