A Pretty Face With Naught Behind It, As My Mother Used to Say

 

I let him out in the backyard yesterday morning, looked out ten minutes later and he had managed to -

• Unlatch the gate to let himself into the vegetable garden (streng Verboten and he knows it)
• Latch the gate behind him 

but then...but then!

• Couldn't figure out how to open it again to let himself back out.

Requiring me to walk across forty feet of frozen path in my robe and slippers to release him, the sodding idjit.

And - as his contribution to the Nicor Gas executive retirement fund - I find that every time I go into the kitchen he has removed the draft stopper from across the bottom of our imperfectly-fitting 105-year old back door.

(I just checked the local tv station's weather app, and it has risen to -2F.  Practically tropical).