He woke me up one night, yelping at about 4.30am.
I looked in the office, he wasn’t there. I looked in the bathroom, he
wasn’t there. I ran downstairs, he wasn’t there.
He yelped again, I could tell he was upstairs, so I came back onto the
landing to try and figure out where he was.
He was on the floor, against the tall red bookcase in the office: *inside*
the orange fleece jacket. He had somehow managed to climb *into* one of the
sleeves, and had disabled himself completely by getting all of his limbs
stuck in the sleeve. Just his nose was poking out of the cuff!
He was *very* excited to get out, and licked my face for as long as he
would’ve done if I’d have been out all day!