Three pouches is NOT the magic number

So, she eventually went to bed on Sunday morning and I contemplated revenge. When she got up again at lunchtime, I asked to go out. I climbed next door, hid under the shed and settled in. After two hours, she was getting angsty and came out into the garden and called my name.

I ignored her. It got dark and I slinked into our back garden and watched her through the window. She kept looking outside but couldn't see me. Out she came again, calling my name. I sat my ground. She put on her coat and went out again, calling Marley - where are you sweetheart. Come on in, it's cold out here. She looked upset.

Eventually, my tummy was growling too much and I sauntered down the path to the back door. She opened the door and I gave her a great look. It was a look that said I might come in. I might not. I might just sit here on the patio while you plead with me to come inside and all the heat goes out into the garden.

This is psychological training of the highest order. After a full minute I sighed and slowly walked in and she smooched me and gave me the special M&S beef dinner as a treat.