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I have a strange story about my stepmom's dog, a Keeshond called Murphy (no pictures I'm afraid).

My dad's lived in the States since '97, and being from English stock loves a good, strong ale (like all true Englishmen should). He owns a coffee table that's quite low down, and one time, he put his beer down on it whilst he went and did other things.

When he came back, the glass was on the floor, and the beer was nowhere to be found.

Murphy, by some truly amazing coincidence was drunk. Staggering around, leaning on people, only missing some slurred barks to make it a full house.

The next morning, he had his head under the bed and refused to come out. The dog was hungover.

The strangest thing? This happened a second time a few months later.

I think my dad may have learned not to put his beer on that table without supervision.