Coincidence? The sod has just walked into my study, stretched and farted simultaneously and walked out again.

A precursor for later in the lounge when we settle with a drink and music. He will lay down on his beanbag and be quiet. Before long, my responsible adult or I shall cry "Jesus Christ! Get in the bloody garden now!" "Are you going to mention it to the vet? I would!"

That is the Musket household most nights.

Good night.