One of my reporters is reading her email and suddenly bursts out in hysterics. Naturally we want to know what's so funny. Seems her best mate has (a) a fuckwit boyfriend and (b) two recently- acquired small toy dogs: forget the breed. Anyway, she goes out for the night and leaves him in charge of the pooches until the morrow, with strict instructions to look after them. So he goes out on the piss, doesn't he? But is careful to take them with him. He gets absolutely hog-whimpering, pours himself into a minicab (with dogs), gets home, collapses. Comes to next morning, still pissed. Only one dog. He looks everywhere, because he vaguely remembers that there was a second one but, no, he's in possession of just a singleton. He's terrified what she might say and do, so he concocts some cock-and- bull story about there having been a burglary and (for some unknown reason) uses one of her high-heeled shoes to beat dents into the wooden flooring everywhere as "evidence". She comes back, throws a wobbly, (amazingly) believes the story and, despite his protestations of: "No, no, really, it isn't worth the hassle..." she rings Plod, reports a break-in, and gets a crime number. Right on cue, the phone rings, and it's the minicab company. One of their drivers took him home last nght, and he was just cleaning his cab, and found this tiny little dog asleep under the back seat....
