Good Friday Geriatric Dogs and Zombie Sheep!

This is the moment Miranda disgraced herself and failed the MOT on account her indicator repeater lights were the wrong shade of orange. The really observant amongst you will also note that to compound her wrongdoing she dumped half a tank of diesel thanks to a fuel line getting busted in the snow (nothing to do with yours truly getting her up to the sills in solid ice and snow) and so the car medics seized the opportunity to keep her until the last branch of the money tree was exchanged for spare parts and lots of their time.

My attempt to grow the largest crop of icicles on a single building continued to Good Friday. As we had got Miranda back from the clutches of the garage a few hours needed to be spent in town buying essential supplies. 

Our neck of the proverbial woods was still deep in snow while five miles south there was virtually nothing save for clumps of dirty ice lurking in hedgerows. In town I did the usual, forgot what I was there for, spent far too long looking at books/magazines and cd's and then returned to Rock HQ with a Rabbit called Amelia ( a rescue bunny) as an alternative to chocolate treats for the apprentice smallholders Easter Sunday surprise. As its hard to conceal a large black rabbit with a posh name he has already unwrapped her and once she got used to the sonic attack of a small child squealing with delight (after he got over the disappointment that she wasn't chocolate flavoured) they have become firm friends.

Peace descended on HQ and after lights out strange things occurred which we still have not got to the bottom of. Just past 11pm while trying to sleep a dog barked. This is in itself not unusual as there are 13 placed strategically around the place (12 of our own and a visitor) and as we are expert in dog barks we (that's me and my beautiful and oh so patient wife) can identify whoever the culprit is and where they are.
 This one was the cartoon dog, or Missy and she was barking from the back of the cottage, unusual as she was supposed to be in the annex and definitely not outside. As the question of who was going to find out what the problem was was decided all hell let loose which included the above very ancient mutley, Preston, 22 years and very senile (he has actually chosen to eat outside in this pic, his food indoors but he has decided to eat Bears dinner) barking at great rapidity, clearly distressed and fading into the distance. Taking only as long as a fat bloke grabbing the nearest clothing and falling downstairs does to run out into the nighttime snow it was strangely quiet outside on the helipad, all seemed normal save for the zombie sheep trying to get in through the gate.
 The sheep had died several days previously and as protocol dictates when you find a strange dead animal in your garden the owner of corpse was contacted and then moved (corpse not owner) to a neutral location where the militia could collect their KIA and dispose of it hygienically.
Snow and idleness had delayed the collection of the fallen, but zombie sheep was some considerable distance from her last resting place, showing no signs of wanting to go home and every sign of wanting to do a return of the living dead to Rock HQ.
Meanwhile cartoon dog spotted the lights were on and bolted through the cat flap (made much larger than a cat several years ago by a randy Bernese Mountain Dog) and hid under the table. Preston was conspicuous by his absence and no amount of friendly late night dog calling persuaded him to return. Faced with the prospect of looking for a white dog in the snow in my wifes t shirt (me not dog) I resorted to driving Miranda down our dirt track (ice road) with the hope that the demented beagle had got over whatever it was that had frightened him and had gone in search of bins to raid. The closest bins belonged to The Oracle but they were intact, Jess his sheepdog making sure that nodog messed with them except her.
Giving up hope I turned Miranda to home and found Preston in the headlights staggering along the lane. Looking the definition of dragged through a hedge backwards he was coated in mud, some blood and extremely traumatised. Safe back at the ranch he went back to bed in the wet room and has stayed there for the last 36 hours.
Questions still to be answered, what happened to him, why did zombie sheep reappear in our garden and how did cartoon dog walk through walls?