We still talk about that Christmas, in what must have been 1982 or 1983...
We had an under the counter fridge in the open plan kitchen-dining-living room. We had Christmas dinner. We put leftovers in the fridge - half a turkey on the plate, wrapped in foil. Lots of cold roast potatoes and parsnips, sprouts, carrots, a tub of gravy. Other things too I think - maybe a pudding of some kind, definitely some custard.
Very early in the morning on Boxing day, my mum got up to go to the loo, and let the cat into the living room, where he went to sleep in front of the fire. The dog was already asleep in her bed under the table. Mum went back to bed.
Two hours later, we all came downstairs, to utter carnage. The dog (Badger, she was a very good girl apart from this) had managed to open the fridge and drag out more or less everything. Ginger (a very very good boy usually) had clawed off the foil over the turkey, and between them they ate half a roast turkey, loads of potatoes and veg, the dog ate most of the sprouts. The gravy was all gone, and smeared all over the kitchen tiles, there was custard everywhere, turkey bits and foil bits everywhere.... and Badger and Ginger fast asleep together, looking very VERY bloated and comfortable in front of the fire. Badger farted like nothing you've ever heard for the next 3 days.