We're in the process of moving. So I need to pack. Much of the packing is occurring upstairs, and that means that Jasper is left downstairs. Unsupervised. He has realised that the best way to get me back downstairs is to misbehave. So, we have monotonous barking with vigorous tail wagging when I reappear. We have ornament skittles, where he windowsill surfs and knocks all the pictures off. We have laundry diving which involves him eating the crotch out of my pants. We have 'lie in wait until she comes down to investigate and then when she opens the door run full pelt up the stairs, climb DS2's bunk ladder and spin around like a loon on his bed'. A new move involves dropping entire loo rolls in to the toilet (this may not have been deliberate, but I wouldn't put it past him). He shuns kongs, chews, hidden treats and any other busy making activity. Unless I'm downstairs when he will happily play/eat/snooze. I am half amused at his antics and half ready to kill him. He had an hour at the park this morning off lead playing with lots of other dogs and chasing balls. While I type this he has his head on my lap and is looking all innocent and angelic. When I tell DH all about this tonight he won't believe me. It's a good job I love the little sod 