This was the view looking back just before Husband had me climb a sheer cliff. (Okay, an exaggeration: a quite steep cliff that I took mostly on all fours making sure I didn't look down.)
Daughter and family are living in a rented house next to a coffee shop. On return, while we were drinking tea - or in my case cwtching baby - Son-in-law let the dogs out into the back garden. What happened next is speculation but it probably went something like this.
George, his nose twitching: I can smell ... food.
Holly: Probably from the coffee shop next door.
George: Coffee shop? You mean cake and coffee shop?
Holly shrugs and nods.
George: What are we waiting for? Let's go. Where's the way out?'
Holly: There isn't one.
George: Whaaaat?! (He begins to wail.)
Holly: Only this gap in the hedge and I expect you're too big to get ... George! Come back! Wait for me!
George hurries into the coffee shop, sees lots of people all eating goodies and thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Customers smile and pat him but no-one offers him as much as a crumb. Then he notices a table. There's no-one sitting at it but there are things on the table. George glances around, licks his lips and sidles casually over. He takes another quick glance over his shoulder then it's tongue out, food in, before you can say, 'George, don't do that!'
He hears his master's voice calling his name but there's still food left on the table and he's pretty sure nobody else wants it. His tongue works at superfast speed and he's still licking his lips when Son-in-law appears and
I'm guessing he probably won't be allowed in again.
P.S. Husband explained that I "missed the final part of the George story - probably too engrossed cwtching Granddaughter 2.
"George was so intent on ‘clearing tables’ that he refused to leave. The only way S-i-L could get him out of there was to pick him up and carry him home. No small feat given that George was 36 kg last time he was weighed. And probably a bit heavier now."
No wonder Son-in-law said the customers were laughing.