<DIV>Safe in the knowledge that there was a baby gate and two doors between me and any hounds, I got the Christmas turkey out of the oven and put it on the counter.</DIV> <DIV>It was, of course, a beauty. And you all know where this is going, don't you?</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>My older daughter, Thea, was in the kitchen helping me, while the rest of the family and the hounds were being convivial in the living room, Then, as Brudder Elwood would say, it happened.</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>The back door flew open and Rolph shot into the kitchen, and I just sort-of saw out of the corner of my eye, my 5ft 2ins daughter doing a flying rugby tackle while screaming words I didn't think she knew. Somehow I still didn't take in what was happening until, between others, the words "help me" emerged.</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>I turned to see Thea sort-of cradling the turkey in one arm and trying to detach Rolph from it with the other. I grabbed Rolph and
pulled at him as the rest of the (extended) family all piled into the kitchen to see the turkey hovering between hound and floor. </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>Thanks to Thea's quick reactions, Rolph had only managed to grab the tip of one drumstick but he was not letting go. And as I heaved him backwards and Thea shoved the bird back in the counter, the beautifully cooked leg peeled away in his mouth.</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>Next task was removing the prize from a hound who thought he'd done well. </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>It turns out he had asked to go out in the garden and someone assuming he just wanted a pee had opened the French windows. How he opened the kitchen door I will never know. </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>I hope you all had a wonderful day with your friends, family and hounds. </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>Sally, with Rolph and Clara, UK</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV> </DIV><p>