I met the same cacophony of normal pre-dawn sounds as the other morning, as well as King bounding over, looking to have his ears scratched again. Once...again, I took King inside to provide a canine early warning system if someone got inside. “That’s it!” I rejoiced silently, enthusiastically slamming my fist into my palm.Bits and pieces of last night’s forgotten dream flashed through my head. I had dreamed about using dogs trained to find drugs, explosives, and even as guard dogs, as well as. No longer would I have to endure his little squeaks of triumph as he barrelled across the floor, up onto the table and made off with a leg of lamb or a couple of kilos of cheese. He was now mouse pancake. My retarded Sulphur Crested Cockatoo, Hanns Schmidt had looked on as the mouse had zigged when he should have zagged. The bird rocked merrily on his perch and let loose with his customary litany of death threats before lapsing into demented mutterings about nothing. I would have got rid of. More

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