The security company who monitors my house rang to say that the sensors in the kitchen were picking up movement, and the alarms has set off. Could I meet the police at the house?
I charged off, dreading the worst.
As I entered the street I could see red and blue flashing lights. Oh dear. The paddy-wagon was waiting for me out the front, with two officers wandering around the yard.
They checked the outside, the constable told me, but they couldn't see anything. I unlocked the door they entered. After a few moments of silence one of them said "Oh!"
They came back to the front door, the biggest officer holding Jess The Non-Wonder Dog under one arm. Jess was happy to see everyone.
Mum told me later she'd checked the house before she set the alarm but couldn't find Jess anywhere and assumed the dog was outside.
Poor old Jess was asleep in her favourite place: in the sun behind the Richter Speakers. She must have woken to an empty house and wandered around looking for company.
The constables were amused, which is nice, and so was the bloke at the security company.
At least I know my alarms work.
3 pints of Kilkenny on an empty stomach puts me over the legal blood alcohol limit of 0.05%