Ah, memories from my iPhone. A dead dog. Oh, another dead

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I was in Scotland last week on holiday, and smartphones being smart, my iPhone seemed to remember I’d been in Scotland a decade ago, with a group of friends and four dogs between us, and insisted on constantly playing a “memories” loop from that time. You know how it is with these loops. You’re going about your business and suddenly your phone wakes up with tinkly music and then plays you a slideshow curated from your photo library. “Hey, Deborah, here are some memories from 2013!” It seems to happen automatically and, because my own memory muscle has gone to pot, it’s such a lovely, thoughtful service and I’m grateful for it. Or am I?

It started more or less the moment I arrived. The

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