It was 8 o'clock in the morning on a gentle spring day, Bert woke to the sound of birds singing as they lined up on the railway fence at the back of their house.

"Those retched birds" he said as he yawned his way to the bathroom. Bert liked to sleep in until after 10, but he rarely got the chance due to one reason or another. 

His wife Millie, stayed in a separate bedroom. Although she admired her husband, he did produce some foul smells during the night which tended to keep Millie awake. Plus she liked to sleep with her head under the cover and this meant she could do so without having to choke at her husbands odour. It seemed separate rooms were a good thing all round.

Once the bathroom had been utilised to its full extent, Bert and Millie wondered downstairs and made their way to the kitchen. "Is it a cooked breakfast for me today then love?" requested Bert. "I wouldn't have thought so unless you're making it dear", responded Millie. Bert last made breakfast on their 20th wedding anniversary in 1998, it was 2018 and Millie was still waiting patiently for her husband to make the effort.

Little did Millie know but her husband had a plan, he was going to make them breakfast and even, should circumstances allow, put their washing on the line. This all sounded rather promising...

Bert made a large cooked breakfast for both him and his wife, with all the trimmings you'd expect from a true English gentleman. He also made a pot of tea which they could pour out once they were sat down together. Bert left it on the kitchen surface and took the washing basket outside.

Whilst he pegged the washing on the line, Bert whistled to himself with a sense of pride. The neighbours dog (Max, of course) had heard the whistling and ran into the neighbours back garden to investigate. The fence was too high for Max, but there was a small area of soil which the dog would dig up on occasion to arrange quick access under the fence.

On smelling the sausages, Max slipped on through to Bert and Millie's garden, crawling through the gap he'd crafted under the fence. He licked his lips and carried on into the kitchen. Little did Bert know but there was a dog in his kitchen and it was eying up the breakfast he'd made only once in twenty years. 

 Once the washing had been successfully attached to the washing line with new pegs that Bert had bought from the local hardware store the day before, he walked back into the house through the back door into the kitchen.

The cooked breakfast was no where to be seen, but, there were marks on the plate from where they had been licked. “Did you enjoy it then love?” Shouted Bert. “Enjoy what?” Asked Millie, “I’ve been sat on the toilet for the past half hour!”... something was up, the breakfast that Bert had put so much effort into was eaten, but how and who by? That was the question.