One evening, my step Basset, Tessie, was kicking up a fuss in the kitchen.

She summoned her slave and demanded he retrieve treasure which was behind the fitted kitchen units. Bad Slave suggested whatever was there was unlikely to warrant destroying the kitchen and went back to his easy chair.

Tessie disagreed.

She went and routed lazy slave from his chair and returned to the kitchen, barking, howling, whining and scratching at the cupboards.

Slave reluctantly removed the kick boards. Seeing nothing he returned to his chair.

Not good enough.

Once again he was pawed at and nudged until he went back to the kitchen, this time armed with a torch. He peered under the cupboards.

Nothing.

Irritated, he went back to his chair. Equally irritated, Tessie demanded he get back in the kitchen - this time with torch and a broom to fish out the mystery object. Nothing was found. Tessie was still adamant something was there and it was something she wanted Very Much Indeed. Slave told her, perhaps rather firmly, that he was not looking any more.

They went to bed.

At 2.40am, Slave was woken by crying, barking, howling and scrabbling at the kitchen cupboards. He stormed downstairs, he pulled off all the kickboards, pulled out all the non-integral appliances, lay on the floor with a torch - and saw her favourite ball behind the dishwasher.

She took it off to bed very happily and slept the rest of the night.

There's a moral in this somewhere . . . .

Drawings by Sheila Williams ©2010