at first light

Woke this morning to the sound of faint scuffling sounds in the hall.
6am.
I groaned and rolled over in the bed.
Presently the Dad stuck his head around the door.
Yup folks things really start early at the old chateau.
"That robin of yours!" quoth the Dad. " He got into the house. Paddy's been chasing him up and down the hall. Could you not hear them?"
I groaned something heartfelt about not taking responsibility either for the dog or the robin.
The Dad disappeared.
Sleep remained elusive for Ireland's greatest living poet.
Presently I staggered out of bed and donned some items of clothing.
You should know I looked marginally less preraphaelite than I usually do.
I wanted to check on Robin.
Just to be sure Paddy hadn't chewed his wing off or anything.
The moment I stepped into the garden, he flew down from the hedge onto the lawn.
I saluted him in the name of the lamb.
He did a few indomitable hops through the grass.
I left him some madeira cake on the window sill and went back into the house.
Paddy Pup met me in the hall.
The look he gave me spoke volumes.
But he seemed somewhat mollified by his own slice of madeira cake.