Mr Mischief... Houdini, good names for him.
I woke thismorning with strange noises outside my high gable-end window. I climbled up on the bed (the only way to see out the window), and couldn't see anything unusual. The grass was a bit stomped down... I thought that perhaps a local animal had been walking in it.
I decided to get up at about 6:30, again I've woken with a headache, and I need to take something for that. I heard the noises again, this time near the ensuite window. Hmmm. Wonder what it was. There are pheasant coucals here, but it wasn't calling like the bird.
At the back door I heard the noise again. And there's Floyd, trailing his rope behind him, chasing the birds, not barking or anything. The rope had broken - he's tied because he's a fence climber-and-jumper and I worry that he'll get out and frighten someone (and the council will lock him up, or worse). He's just really friendly.
His rope had trailed behind him, collecting the scooper-spade thing which goes with his poop tray (like one they sweep cigarette butts and small litter into at the shops), which was trailing behind as well. I'm constantly amazed at Floyd's output, fortunately that was neat and tidy as usual and the rope hadn't been trailed through it.
He's such a good boy! Most of the time. And my lip has almost gone back to normal colour.
Time for some headache tablets.