Henry thought Easter without looking for something is not really Easter. Hence he decided to not spend the night at home and not come back to his early feeding time. I am sure he spent his time hiding behind a bush where he must have enjoyed seeing all three of us in regular intervals stomping through the garden with cries of “Henry! Oh, Henry!”, “Where are you?”, and “Come here, you miserable son of a … pussy!”
Anyway, he turned up long after lunch, ignored his food bowl and decided to crack an egg.