Naughty George goes mentalist

Yesterday morning, I woke up and went downstairs to find that Naughty George was acting oddly. When I say oddly, I mean that he was standing on the sideboard in my kitchen as though he was an ornament. He was stock still, the only movement being his nose twitching.

Pic.No.1. Naughty George standing on my sideboard

"What the bloody hell are you doing on that sideboard?" I asked him, before remembering that he could only speak 'woof'.

He looked at me contemptuously (yep, my own dog), and then turned away to carry on .... well.... standing. How come I always end up with the strange dog? Someone should write a book called 'Dogs are from Pluto, and Humans are from Earth', it would be an international bestseller, and I would earn loads of money for coming up with the concept.

Anyway, I decided to leave him to his own devices and get on with some work.When I returned to the kitchen an hour later, Naughty George had abandoned his position on top of the sideboard and was now wedged in the small gap between the sideboard and the fridge.

"Right that's it," I said to him, "if you don't stop acting all weird, I am going to send you to a mental institution for dogs, and they will probably give you electro-dog-therapy." He backed out of the small gap, looked at me blankly before proceeding to start sniffing away at the bottom of the sideboard.

That's when it dawned on me; some food had probably dropped down the back, and he was trying to get to it..... hence the freaky behaviour. No problem, we could solve this one easily. I grabbed hold of the sideboard and pulled it away from the wall, only to be confronted by a bloody great rat sitting there.

I screamed and shot out of the back door, the rat squeaked (I didn't realise how loud they actually were) and shot back under the sideboard, and Naughty George tried to follow the rat, barking frenziedly. 

I stood in the garden and contemplated my dilemma with that old UB40 song spinning around in my head. 'There's a rat in mi kitchen, what am I gonna do?' I peeked around the kitchen door and saw Naughty George lying on his side with both front paws under the sideboard trying to get at the rat.

I mean, just how is one supposed to get a rat out of a kitchen? Bribe it with lumps of cheese (or is it only mice that like cheese)? Ring up a rat charmer..... I don't know.

All of a sudden my dilemma was solved. Upon seeing Naughty George, the rat had decided to make a run for the open back door, and at breakneck speed (I didn't realise how scarily fast they were), ran past me with NG in hot pursuit. 

Needless to say, Naughty George 1 - Rat 0.

"Naughty George, you are my hero!" I said to him as he reappeared looking pleased with himself, "I'm sorry I threatened to send you to a Mental Institution." He wagged his tail vacuously and climbed into his dog basket. Drama over.

P.S. I just want to add that I haven't got a rat in my house because of slovenly housekeeping standards or anything like that. It's because I live next to a farm, so they tend to be an occupational hazard.