Dad, I know it's in there.

Toots has been thrown by the return of our amorous hedgehogs. She spends every spare minute patrolling on the lookout for them. She does not understand 'Nocturnal.' She would not, could not, harm one; she just hates another presence on her patch.

Add in the regular firing of farmer's gas guns locally and you have a recipe for neurotic hound of the year.