An almighty crashing, banging and clunking sent me running to the source where Miro had caught a foot in the lamp cord in the living room, yanked the plug from the wall, and dragged the lamp banging along behind him into the dining room and around the table, roping up Alanis' Coolaroo bed and several chairs. I threw myself on the dog and wrestled him down in order to unwrap the cord from his paw, whereupon he pranced away ready for more redecorating work. The lamp is a total goner. But I'm looking at the bright side: the chairs are OK, less a few scratches, and the china cabinet my grandfather made is intact. I guess Miro didn't like that particular lamp.