A strange woman comes to my door one day in early March. It's a prosperous area so we often have people selling things door-to-door - dusters, make-up, frozen foods - but she doesn't look like a professional saleswoman. She hasn't got the patter either. She just smiles awkwardly and thrusts a card in my hand: "Amy Turner. Pet Portraits Undertaken."
I run my fingernail along the cheap gold edge of the card and look at her, waiting for an explanation.
"I'll paint any animal in the comfort of your own home," Amy Turner says. "Wouldn't you like a unique portrait of your loved one? I've had exp…
