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.
