How a pampering weekend at Cliveden House unleashed my dog's inner diva

It had been a long time coming, this dinner. My companion was eagerly scanning the menu, eyes aflutter, as I perused the wine list. We’d had a few sideways glances from other guests but that was to be expected. It was the first time we’d gone public, you see, and perhaps it showed. 

For more than 10 years, I and the gorgeous brunette sitting across the table have had to be careful about where we eat and who will see us. But not here. Pringle is not only “allowed” to be here, she’s a guest of honour, and we were relishing every moment of it. Pringle, in case you hadn’t guessed, is my beloved dog (a mixed-breed with a touch of chihuahua). 

I’ve had her since I was at university, and she has been pretty much everywhere with me since, usually – given her tiny size – stowed surreptitiously in one of those slightly embarrassing dog bags. Recently, however, in a plot twist no pet owner wants to be faced with, Pringle was diagnosed with a heart condition that means her days are numbered. So when I was offered the chance to stay at Cliveden House in Berkshire, which had been rated Britain’s number one hotel for dogs by users of PetsPyjamas, a pet lifestyle website, I booked us in for some much-needed pampering.  

The VIP (very important pooch) treatment began the day before our departure with the delivery of a box from PetsPyjamas, addressed to Pringle. A photo of her graced the cover, one that the booking agent had mysteriously asked for in advance of our stay, and inside was a selection of toys, treats and – crucially, as it turned out, given a deluge of rain during our stay – muddy paw wipes. 

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Cliveden House is a 40-minute drive from west London, on 375 acres of National Trust land: a grand, imposing, Italianate manor. It was almost 11pm when we arrived but we were both greeted by staff with much enthusiasm as my bags were swept up to my room, and Pringle – tail wagging furiously – was immediately made to feel at home as staff showered her with affection.

First built in 1666, Cliveden has been home to one earl, three countesses, two dukes, a Prince of Wales, and has entertained the likes of Charlie Chaplin, Winston Churchill, and Queen Victoria – with her beloved dogs. Little did Pringle know that she, too, was about to enjoy a taste of being treated like royalty. Cliveden also, of course, will forever be associated with the “Profumo affair” of the mid-Sixties. And more recently as the hotel where Meghan Markle slept the night before her wedding to Prince Harry.

On arrival in the Canning Suite, Pringle delighted in snuffling around her new domain, establishing herself as mistress of the regal chamber. She was particularly taken with her dog bed, essentially a large, royal blue spotted cushion, set up at the foot of a gargantuan four-poster, along with a food and water bowl, feeding mat and lavender-infused “bedtime” biscuits. As Pringle made herself at home, I delved into a mini welcome bottle of champagne and slipped into the comfy monogrammed slippers provided, padded around for a bit pretending to be a princess myself, before slipping into bed and drifting into a deep slumber.

On waking, I found Pringle, to my utmost surprise, coiled on her dog bed. At home, she always sleeps with me, nestled behind my calves. I eyed the dog bed suspiciously.

Breakfast was served in our room by a charming gentleman who knelt down to greet Pringle before rolling in a trolley laid out with a veritable feast, the star of the show being a generous bowlful of chopped-up Cumberland sausage and bacon for Pringle. I’m a vegetarian, so this was a rare treat for Pringle, one that she devoured at an alarming rate – tail thrashing with glee – while I tucked into mushrooms and tomatoes on toast, a potent espresso and fresh peppermint tea.

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Tired after her unusually hearty breakfast, Pringle settled down for a mid-morning nap while I plodded down to the spa for a soothing hot oil massage – our only time spent apart during the stay – after which we set off for a walk in the rain through the verdant grounds. I’d forgotten to pack her lead, which was of no consequence since the staff produced one without fuss, along with a map of the park’s various routes. Merrily, we disappeared downhill into the forest to emerge at the banks of a quiet river.

The plan was to return later for afternoon tea in Cliveden’s 16th-century Grand Hall, having noticed several other guests with pint-sized dogs perched on their knees and a pyramid of dainty pastel cakes looming before them. 

But the walk was so enchanting and before we knew it we had walked (Pringle occasionally hopping in my bag) four miles to stumble across the country’s oldest free house, the 900-year-old Royal Standard of England.

That night, after working up an appetite, we sat down for dinner at the hotel’s Astor Grill in a candlelit booth, much to the amusement of other diners. “Would Pringle like the chicken or the fillet steak, lightly tossed with gravy-moistened rice?” our waiter inquired, with an entirely straight face. 

She opted for the latter, which was diced into bite-sized chunks and served in a china bowl. It was all deliciously over-­­the-top.

The price tag attached to this level of luxury – not just our resplendent surroundings, but for the rarity of Pringle being spoiled, not hidden – is undoubtedly high. But it certainly felt worth it. 

That night we took our final night-time stroll under a fat white moon. As I climbed into bed later, Pringle condescended to join me in the big bed, perhaps in a nod of gratitude. 

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All in all, Pringle’s stay at Cliveden House has transformed her into something close to a diva. Upon our return home, she looked mournfully towards the empty spot at the foot of my bed and stared forlornly at her bowl of heart-healthy dog pellets. 

Pringle has had a taste of the high life, a peek behind the curtain at the theatre of what could be. She’s effectively flown business class for the first (and last) time in her life, and the economy cabin will never seem the same. With what might be just a few short months left, I feel that now is the time to indulge her.

Cliveden House package from £496 per night, including travel kit for your dog, through PetsPyjamas. Breakfast from £25.