Me: Dave looks very worried. What’s happened?
Nell: Have you seen the Daily Growl this morning?
Me: No. Why?
Nell: You had better take a look. David said he thought something was wrong when he and The Cat were down at the quay and an elderly Pug shook its stick at them. Go on read it out.
Me: “People have been asked to be on their guard after a violent attack in Kingsbridge yesterday. Retired antiques dealer, Dicky Dalmation from Bury St. Edmunds, and his wife Muriel, were walking along when a large black Labrador swooped down and stole his muffin.”
Nell: Labradors don’t swoop. Anyone knows that. Ridiculous.
Me: “It was accompanied by a ginger cat who licked all the cream off the top of Muriel’s hot chocolate.”
Me: Yes, that’s extremely rude. It’s not that I condone stealing a muffin but licking the cream is a step too far. It’s the best bit.
Nell: But who does it remind you of?
Me: Oh my goodness. Why did Dave steal a muffin? And as for The Cat. How could it?
Nell: Good grief. It wasn’t them. Someone has set them up. David is absolutely devastated and The Cat is furious.
Me: I bet it is. Everyone knows it’s not ginger, it’s a strawberry blonde.
Nell: That is not the point. Robin Hoot is on his way over now. Apparently there has been a supposed attack in Salcombe by a pair of owls and one in Dartmouth by a small flamingo and a turkey.
Me: Now, that is odd. I mean what are the chances of that happening?
Nell: Honestly, I despair of you sometimes. Someone has got it in for us and we know who that is, don’t we?
Me: Stephen Seagull and the Beefies?
Me: But how did they do it?
Nell: We don’t know yet, but we will.
Me: Malcolm has never even been to Dartmouth.
Nell: You are missing the point.
Me: Yes. Sorry.