Me: Oh my goodness. Harriet is in a dreadful mood.
Nell: Just ignore her. Teenage strop.
Me: Why?
Nell: She says if David is walking Meghan down the aisle she should be allowed to stand next to Harry.
Me: William is doing that. She can’t be best man for so many reasons.
Nell: I told her and she says she could be Best Dog. It’s ridiculous. We all know who Best Dog is and it’s not young Harriet.
Me: Is David walking Meghan down the aisle then?
Nell: I despair of you sometimes. I really do. No, he is not. Meghan’s mother will be stepping in. If the puppies accompany me, and it is a big if, then they will be part of my entourage.
Me: I knew you were going
Nell: Of course I am going.
Me: Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?
Nell: I’m staying with friends near Windsor and the chauffeur will drive me so I will be fine but thank you.
Me: What about Poppy and Mutley?
Nell: Harry wants them there too, but I’m not sure. Poppy wants to go as St. George and the Mutt wants to wear his DJ. The invitation doesn’t mention either of those two options.
Me: What are you wearing?
Nell: After much discussion I’ve decided fur is best. My own of course.
Me: Naturally. And the hat?
Nell: Philip Treacy begged me to wear one of his but they are awfully large. I don’t want to upstage the bride.
Me: No. That wouldn’t do.
Nell: I shall go over it with Meghan this afternoon. She has exquisite taste.
Me: Maybe something with stars and stripes as she is American?
Nell: What on earth are you talking about? I am a British labrador of pedigree Oxfordshire stock? If there is a flag to be flown it will be the Union Jack. Meghan knows that. I’m her British adviser. Good grief you’ll be expecting me to wave pom poms next.
Me: Poppy would be ever so good at that.
Nell: Don’t start.
Me: Sorry.
