Captain Midnight here.
All I can say is that he had it coming…
We had a nice walk on Charmouth Beach this afternoon. Except that himself kept chucking tennis balls, which meant that I had to do a lot of running around to make sure they didn’t get lost. Sometimes they went into the sea and I had to swim for them. He’s either a rotten shot or he does it on purpose. I think he likes to see me get wet!
Every time I brought one back to him he chucked another one. Perhaps he’s just a bit slow to catch on? We got back to the car with a full quota of balls and then we drove to Bridport where we went into a hat shop and three women made a fuss of me. Himself says I’m a babe magnet but I’ve no idea what that means.
When we got home he looked at my belly and said I had fleas. The cheek of it! The next thing I knew, I was standing in the bath tub covered in lather with the power-shower at full blast. He said it was for my own good but I didn’t like it much. I jumped out and he chased me round the flat waving a towel. That was fun.
Then he undressed (not a pretty sight, I can tell you) filled the bath with hot water and got into it. Why he’d want to do that is beyond me but he seemed happy enough. He lit a stinky-candle and lay back, eyes half-closed, with a glass of red stuff in his hand.
That’s when I used my ninja powers to sneak back into the bathroom and liberate a sock. It’s a bit of a mystery why I’m drawn to his socks. I may well be the only living creature not utterly repelled by them. I took it into the sitting room and gave it a serious nibble. I thought he’d be amused by the avant-garde new design but judging by the fuss he made he’s not got much fashion sense. In the end, I told him he and his sock had it coming for covering me in soap and turning the fire hose on me.
He called me a vandal and a sock thief.
Can you believe it?
Coming Home to Story 
Its because we have no sense, Captain Midnight. I myself am one of Them, a bit dull on hearing and hopeless sense of smell. Could not track a rabbit if my life depended on it. Would not survive swimming out for a ball either. Sorry, but we are rather overdeveloped in our intellect.
I am going to courses to get “out of my head” and had two good courses recently, and I am practicing. You would not believe how hard it is to follow two teachers at the same time – the Storyteller wants me to remember to breathe, and the Clown wants me to be aware of my fingers and knees and general position of my body in space at all times. I find it helpful, but a very demanding task. I bet you are a master at it, my friend.