This time it was Saint Jake - you know, the little white mop that never does anything wrong? Boy, did he blot his copybook yesterday.
It all happened when Keith stepped out to the front door in the middle of a phone call on his mobile and left the living room door open as well. (Well, you know men can't multi-task.) That was the signal for nosy Jake to peer out and having spotted a cat outside, quickly legged it in pursuit.
There are two reasons why Jenny found this difficult to understand:
1. Jake never runs if he can walk.
2. He never takes any notice of cats.
Jenny often comments that when I spot a cat, like any self-respecting terrier, I do my utmost to chase it, but it sits just out of reach and laughs at me, whereas Jake ignores any cats he sees, whilst they take one look as him and scram.
Of course, Keith got it in the neck for leaving both doors open and he then set off in the car to look for him, while Jenny took me out on foot to do the same. I must say, she didn't seem very impressed with my bloodhound capabilities, probably because I haven't got any, and it was a while before we finally found the little idiot, wandering out of someone's garden.
So Jake has been in disgrace and banished to his basket.