Me: What’s the matter with Mutley?
Nell: He has rolled himself up in a throw.
Me: Yes, I know, but why?
Nell: He needs to be alone. Haven’t you ever wanted to roll yourself up in something?
Me: I can’t say I have.
Nell: Interesting. I, myself, often retire to the back bedroom, as you know, and roll myself under the coverlet
Me: Well, you certainly mess the coverlet up.
Nell: It is a form of protest. Please take it seriously.
Me: What is Mutley protesting about?
Nell: Annoying birds.
Me: Of the feathered variety?
Nell: Of course. You don’t think I would refer to ladies as birds, do you? I’m not from London.
Me: My mistake.
Nell: Seagulls, pigeons, flamingos and now chaffinch.
Me: Chaffinch? Are they planning a hostile takeover too?
Nell: No. But they won’t stop arguing about the bird bath.
Me: Oh.
Nell: It’s a constant chirp from morning until night. They queue on the fence and then someone pushes in, or takes too long in the bath.
Me: I know that feeling. Queuing for the bathroom is so annoying.
Nell: Yes, but there is no need to constantly chirp while you are waiting. Mutley wanted to nap outside on the terrace but the noise was simply too much.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: David took matters into his own paws at one stage and drank the whole bath but Kev refilled it.
Me: Do you know the odd thing about all this, Nell? Mutley is deaf.
Nell: He is selectively deaf. Just because we don’t always react to you doesn’t mean we can’t hear.
Me: Ha. You’ve finally admitted it.
Nell: Would you pass the shortbread, please?
Me: I know you heard me.
Nell: And a plate. We have standards.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
