The Mysterious Case of The Dog in the Night

Last night we lost Reggie. She must have slipped out of the front door while bin bags were going out. Troy headed out to the park one way, shouting and whistling, and Xanthe and I set out in a pincer movement, having searched the house. Ten minutes running round Battersea, and no sign of her. Strategic phone calls were placed to friends she might have chosen to visit, all to no avail. Dinner was left to get cold as we searched high and low. Well, mostly low as she isn't very tall. I kept reassuring myself that she is chipped, and people are fundamentally honest, so someone may turn her in.

We returned home, appetites gone. We decided to search the house again, she wasn't stuck in a bedroom, or even in the cupboard under the stairs - a favourite haunt as the leads are kept in there. Eventually, my bladder got the better of my anxiety, and I opened the door of the downstairs lavvy. Out sauntered Reg, with a 'what's-up-with-you-lot?' look on her face. She must have heard us clattering about and shouting her name, and yet not a peep, woof or scratch. I wonder what we did to piss her off?

Perry was back from Iceland today, with that complete lack of enthusiasm for anything, that only a thirteen year old can manage. Blue Lagoon? Fine. Geysers? Fine. We went to the Big Easy, on the King's Road, for supper. On the way, we hear one of the LBC presenters describe how the Big Easy no longer has corn on the cob on the menu. Apparently it is now almost impossible to get. Our favourite side dish has gone from buttery fingers, to bio-fuel. Once we sit at our table, Xanthe starts hissing and mugging frantically. It turns out that her and Perry's old English teacher is sitting at the next table. He orders two beers, and a glass of red wine all at once, just for himself. And before 7pm, you can tell it's the end of term.

Half way through the meal and Helen and Sarah turn up. Clearly tonight, the Big Easy is on the golden string that holds the universe together. After all, there is no such thing as a coincidence.

Ribs, steak and chicken wings. Who needs salt-grilled bighand thornyhead (Jesus, I hope that's a fish) with vinegary water pepper sauce. Our meal may not have been G8, but it was Gr8!