Woken at 5am by hysterically barking dog, stumbled down stairs, asuming the works ( burglar, ballif, zombie attack etc ) to find that Alfie Greyhound's blanket had fallen off his sofa and he wasn't happy. It's not unusual for him to get me out of bed in the middle of the night because he hasn't been 'tuckedin' properly. I must be doing something very wrong.
I was having a very weird dream that I was in an episode of Bonanza. I loathe Westerns, it was a blessed relief to be woken.
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