Hit & Run: Puppy love

Happiness, according to the American viewing public, is a warm puppy movie. Beverly Hills Chihuahua, the adventures of a pooch who talks just like Drew Barrymore, has been top of the US box office for two weeks, despite the efforts of Leonardo DiCaprio, Ridley Scott, and even Shia LaBeouf (meaty by name, meaty by nature) to unseat it with something more meaningful. But – sorry Leo, sorry Shia – people would rather see a dog wear curlers, go on holiday and fall in love; they would rather see a Yorkie raise its frontleg and growl "talk to the paw".

Clearly, what we want right now is fluff. Fluff with four little paws poking out, and a black nose with a quizzical expression... Even typing these words has made me feel a little better. There is nothing quite so cheering in life as a small dog. I do not mean to denigrate larger dogs, whose lolloping, panting qualities are all very well when encountered in unconfined spaces i.e. a field – but the small dog, who combines daintiness with intelligence, brings a particular kind of enchantment. I have witnessed this at first hand with our Yorkshire Terrier, Deryk.

Deryk was named by my mother (she is somewhat dyslexic). He is of strong character but so small that he moves faster in a strong gust of wind. Taking Deryk out round town is like going out with a sunbeam tucked under your arm. People are always pleased to see him. They coo, they laugh. They take photos. Sometimes they overcrowd him, all wanting a stroke. I feel I know something of what the bodyguard to the Dalai Lama must go through. If Deryk dawdles unduly around a lamppost, and I have to speak harshly to him, passersby look at me with something approaching hatred in their eyes.

Perhaps it is because he is so trusting, never complains and seems, somehow (terrible anthropomorphism coming up) profoundly optimistic about life, Deryk simply makes everyone happier. Which is why I have misgivings about the soi-disant "greatest Chihuahua movie ever" (surely the only?). The trailer combines cutesiness with moments of random cruelty. A blonde actress leaps out of bed and a small dog goes flying with a bone-crunching realism. Nope, didn't make me laugh either. Let's hope this was just put out-of-context by the trailer, otherwise America's hit movie could be going to the bottom of our list. Sighing at a dog in a diamante collar, and then laughing when it hurts itself is the worst kind of amoral sentimentalism. It's understandable if we seek a bit of sweet escapism; let's hope it doesn't have a sour streak. The small dog may be baby substitute, happiness tonic or career stepping stone for Drew Barrymore – but there's one thing it isn't: an accessory. Hermione Eyre

Is the new superbug-buster really any better than soap?

Who would have thought in 21st century Britain that our biggest concern about going into hospital would be the cleanliness of the wards? More than 140 years after Joseph Lister discovered the principle of disinfection, grime on the hospital bed rail is viewed with greater alarm than the surgeon's knife.

So the makers of PatientPak, the £16 kit designed to protect patients against superbugs launched this week, are likely to find a buoyant market. The pack has wipes and sprays to kill MRSA, noroviruses, salmonella and E.coli and soap and a nailbrush which is the best way to protect against C. difficile. It includes a hair and body wash, a spray for sheets and curtains and wipes for door handles and tables. How many patients are going to be up to tying on their pinnies and polishing the hospital furniture on admission remains to be seen. And will it work? Professor Hugh Pennington, the well-known microbiologist, is quoted on the PatientPak website saying it is "very satisfactory in killing hospital acquired pathogens". It won't, however, achieve the job on its own. The best defence against the bugs, says Professor Pennington, is to ensure anyone who comes near you has washed their hands. But patients can feel awkward about challenging hospital staff. In that case, having a PatientPak prominently displayed on your bedside table may be the best defence – sending a signal to staff that "here is someone keeping a beady eye on them" and to scrub those digits. Jeremy Laurance

Those Miley Cyrus memoirs in full

Ok, so: Hi, my name is totally Miley Cyrus. I am 15 and I'm, like, a singer and an actor on this Disney show called 'Hannah Montana'? I grew up in Nashville, Tennessee with my dad Billy-Ray, who used to be, like, even more famous than I am. I've had two hit US albums and was photographed topless for 'Vanity Fair' but I was TOTALLY tricked into it!!! My faith is, you know, a really big deal. I'm writing my memoirs! I am 15 years old... did I already say that? Esther Walker

Try fashion's latest neologism for size

We've already had shoots (shoe-boots) and treggings (trouser-leggings). Now it's time make way for the new fashion hybrid: the bandal. Neither a hip name for a groupie nor thug with a cold, it is, a half-boot, half-sandal. The bandal combines the support of a boot, with the lightweight pleasures and hedonistic toe liberation of a sandal.

Bandals have already been spotted on the Paris catwalks at YSL and Balmain, on the hallowed feet of French Vogue's fashion director Emmanuelle Alt, not to mention Carrie Bradshaw's in the recent Sex and the City film. Young footwear talent Nicholas Kirkwood has designed some of the bestbandals about (left). Bandals work well with this season's mid-length skirt or even with cropped harem trousers, and in these fiscally-challenging times, you can say you're buying two pairs of new shoes for the price of one, too. Harriet Walker