Well I don't know whether Meg's success in the Great Bloomers Referendum has gone to her head, or perhaps it was the entire Camembert she found on Hampstead heath yesterday and troughed before I could wrestle it off her; whatever the reason, something has got into Meg.

Last night, at about 11pm I let the girls out in the garden for a final pee, but when I went to call them in, only the Pie came back. This is not altogether unusual. I called Meg again and tried to bribe her with chicken, which usually works, but no sign. So I went back in and got a torch, and shone it all around the garden, but no sign of Meg at all. Now, even though I know the garden is secure, that it is physically impossible for Meg to get out, I also know that Meg has a way of confounding the laws of physics. I was starting, if not to panic exactly, to stress at the very least. She wasn't there. She had to be there. But she wasn't; she really wasn't. I walked all around the garden in my pyjamas, checking every corner again and again. No Meg. It was impossible, but she really wasn't there. Now I did start to panic.

Then I heard a sort of muffled thumping coming from somewhere high up at the back and I shone the torch up, and there she was, lying there on the roof of the shed and so pleased with herself her stump of a tail was thwack thwack thwacking against the roof. At the lowest point the shed roof is maybe about six feet off the ground. It's not unheard of for Meg to scale it. Years ago, she occasionally used to climb up to enjoy the afternoon sun, which catches the slope of the roof. But we're talking five or six years ago, long before she broke her leg, let alone lost it. It never occurred to me she'd even attempt to climb on that roof again.

I rushed inside and fetched some steps. I was terrified she would try to jump off, but having achieved her ambition of scaling the roof, it was clear she had no intention of ever coming back down. In the end I had to physically lift her, legs locked, like a disobliging coffee table, down the steps, and carry her up the garden.

Today the shed is coming down. There's me fondly imagining I've got a tripawd-friendly adapted house , I've got steps up to the sofa for heaven's sake, and she's jumping on top of the shed!

The pic below is from years ago. I didn't take one last night for obvious reasons...

PS Now the snow is supposed to be coming. If it does, I think Meg might just literally take off and fly.