Me: You are looking very regal this morning.

Nell: Am I?

Me: Yes, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but also a little bit stern.

Nell: Really? Why do you think that is?

Me: I’m getting the feeling it’s something I’ve done.

Nell: Surely not.

Me: You might as well tell me.

Nell: You reduced my morning portion of biscuits.

Me: Oh, you noticed.

Nell: Of course I noticed. David and Harriet have full bowls and I have a teacup’s worth. It barely covered the base of the bowl.

Me: That’s an exaggeration. I only reduced it slightly. I’m just looking out for you. It happens to us all as we get older.

Nell: What exactly? I know my fur has grown thicker since moving to Devon and my chin a little greyer.

Me: And you are a tiny bit portly.

Nell: Portly? I am not a corgi you know.

Me: Of course not.

Nell: If you think I am going to subject myself to a public weigh in again you are very wrong.

Me: I wish the scales weren’t in reception too.

Nell: Would you like your weight discussed by all and sundry?

Me: I couldn’t think of anything worse. But you are booked in tomorrow I’m afraid. Everyone is actually, as it’s time for your yearly vaccinations.

Nell: Oh good. Pain as well as humiliation.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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