The Comfort Ring

Nell: Do we have to discuss this again?

Me: You have to wear the Comfort Ring, Nell. You’ve got a very sore paw.

Nell: Firstly, whoever called it a Comfort Ring was clearly having a laugh and secondly, I do not need one. You and that vet Emily are wrong.

Me: Don’t call her that vet Emily. She is only doing this for your own good. You mustn’t lick your paw.

Nell: I’m not going to.

Me: When I took it off you immediately licked it.

Nell: Just a momentary lapse in concentration.

Me: You are wearing it. Your health comes first. 

Nell: Well, your Aunt Pam was right.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: Nothing’s so bad it can’t get worse.

Me: Oh dear. Just rest and you will get well soon.

Nell: It seems I have no choice but to endure. Such is a labrador’s life.

Me: Is there anything I can do?

Nell: Poppy and I are teaching the puppies to play Bridge this afternoon. You could provide afternoon tea.

Me: Ok.

Nell: Remember I like my scones with jam and then cream. I know we live in Devon but the Cornish got that one right.

Me: Yes.

Nell: And Earl Grey please. None of that herbal nonsense you drink.

Me: Anything else? Champagne, perhaps?

Nell: Dont be ridiculous. I’m on antibiotics.

Me: Yes, sorry.

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