Right, allow me to set the scene. About a month ago, my radio station adopted a panda. Here's what I wrote at the time:

I came up with the idea that for every text we received reading "Save the Panda", I would donate 50 pence to the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), which has a panda as its logo and pays special attention to conservation work with the furry photo-negatives themselves. Our presenter Andy and fellow producer Rita matched this, so we were offering £1.50 per text.

In a few seconds flat the Pandometer had reached £30, so I went to find out how to donate. Lo and behold, the WWF pages advertised the chance to adopt a panda for £2.50 a month - £30 a year. Perfect! I filled out the direct debit form and the panda became BBC property (well, I adopted it, but it's on attachment).

More: This Is What We Bamboo

Well, the panda has not been forgotten, and today it made its first live appearance on air. See, I'd shipped it over from China to join me in the commentary gantry at Ascot for the afternoon's racing.

Alright, so maybe it wasn't the actual panda...

And alright, if I'm honest, maybe it wasn't even that panda. See, cuddly panda toys can't really talk. What I needed was an actor to play the role of the panda on air for me. Someone with quite a deep voice. Someone the listeners (and presenters) wouldn't recognise. Who could I call on?

Yep. OJ is officially the voice of Zhu Xiong the panda, of Wanglang Province, China. We caught up with the panda's activities since being adopted last month, and the panda helped us pick a few horses for that afternoon's "horse tipping" competition. Miraculously the panda even correctly chose Pelican Prince as the winner of the first race, but sadly hadn't put any bamboo on it.

When not indulging our panda storyline, we spent a very enjoyable afternoon on the seventh floor of the Ascot grandstand, able to see Wembley Stadium in the distance, watch the cricket being played on a pitch inside the racecourse, and of course watch the racing from our vantage point directly above the winning post.

I even got to try my hand at racing commentary a couple of times - which, let me tell you, is a nigh on impossible art, trying to make out blurry sequences of colours hurtling along five furlongs away. A couple of times I only just recognised the correct horse at the last moment. I don't envy the likes of Cornelius Lysaght and John McCririck, that's for sure, and nor do I think I pose a serious threat to their job security.

I think OJ would join me in recommending The Old Hatchet, a pub just a few minutes' drive from Ascot. We decamped there after the final race and it was a lovely place, serving decent food at a reasonable price in a peaceful, shady beer garden. Is it any wonder OJ's texted me his approval for these invitations on 'press gigs'?