Up on the WOOF
Micki hit the ceiling when she saw the pickle her pooch was in…
Flicking on the kitchen light, I gasped. Smeared across the floor was the remains of a full carton of 12 eggs.
Yolk dripped from the wall and shells crunched underfoot. ‘Cooper!’ I bellowed. My four-year-old Rottweiler just wagged his tail, admiring his work of modern art on my lino. ‘Look at this mess,’ I snapped. He’d been so shy as a puppy, but had grown into a mischievous mutt.
As he got older, he’d snaffle meat pasties from the fridge. We had to padlock it whenever we went out.
My bedroom door was bolted, too, as he loved chewing my socks.
But me and my dad, Mark, 53, wouldn’t have it any other way.
Coop was a big, nosy softie!
As we headed to the pub on a Sunday evening this September, we made sure to padlock the kitchen like Fort Knox.
An hour into our pints, I heard my name called over the din.
It was one of my neighbours, Jeff.
‘Micki!’ he called. ‘Your dog’s on the roof!’
Whaat?! I knew Cooper was always up to no good – but how had he got up there?!
Jeff said he’d tried knocking on our door but got no answer.
‘I knew I’d find you here,’ he winked.
He drove us back and, when our house came into view, I saw Jeff’s wife, Julie, and their three kids staring, open-mouthed, at our roof. ‘There he is!’ I shrieked to Dad. Cooper looked almost proud, king of all he surveyed.
But then I looked closer… He was shaking in the rain. ‘What if he slips?’ I fretted. ‘The fire brigade’s on its way,’ Julie said. ‘I don’t think we can wait that long,’ Dad panicked, racing inside. Hot on his heels, I followed him up to the attic. The skylight was closed – it must have snapped shut behind Cooper. Goodness knows how he’d nudged it open in the first place. ‘Here, grab my feet,’ Dad said, as he heaved his upper body through the window. Gripping his ankles, all I could see was his hefty behind, wriggling as he stretched to reach our troublesome mutt.
If I hadn’t been so fearful that he’d get spooked and slip, I’d have laughed – we looked like Laurel and Hardy, three sheets to the wind! ‘Come here, boy,’ Dad wheedled, blinking in the rain. Then: ‘Got him!’ Yanking Cooper in by the scruff of his neck, we all collapsed on to the floor. As our pooch licked Dad’s face and barked excitedly, the fire brigade turned up, relieved to see they weren’t required… We’ve now put a bolt on the attic door.
Coop’s night on the tiles is going to be a one-off! Micki Pickford, 20, Bristol
Barking mad – our mutt had lost his way He drew a big crowd
Cooper had a walk on the ‘tiled’ side