Goodbye Finchley...you stayed true to form to the very last moment

Although I was worried that I would disgrace myself by weeping all over Bassets on departure from the house, I was saved by the antics of l'enfant. Just as I was gathering together the possessions I had strewn around the kitchen: cape, shawls, laptop, book, and the rest, Finch decided to engage in evil-ness.

With one clever scoop of his long Basset nose he winkled out a wide cylindrical gift pack of chocolate chip cookies from beneath a scarf in my carry on.

Beyond pleased with himself, his little chops jacked open just as far as they could possibly go around the oversize packet, he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes and bolted for the living room, front paws working in tandem, nineteen to the dozen.

As he skidded across the kitchen floor, the cellophane split and large cookies wheeled across the rug. Max was there in seconds and lil’sis’s present started to go snip snap down the gullets of two snack obsessed hounds.

Chuckling away, we managed to rescue most of them. I just hope lil'sis doesn't find any dog hairs on her cookies.