Me: You are so manipulative.

Nell: Excuse me?

Me: I have the best of intentions and then you give me that look and I am putty in your paws.

Nell: What look?

Me: You know exactly the one.

Nell: We have several.

Me: The “I am a poor starving Labrador” one.

Nell: Oh. You mean the Beseeching Look. Yes, it is a good one.

Me: You did it yesterday.

Nell: Excuse me, if I felt I would like to share in your Calamari Fritti.

Me: Dave is the worst.

Nell: Yes. David has taken the Beseeching Look to a new level. I’m impressed.

Me: He rests his head on my lap and sighs.

Nell: Very skilled.

Me: Harriet doesn’t do that.

Nell: No. Harriet prefers to wait at a distance but I think she needs to be closer. Her success rate is low.

Me: To be honest she looks more bewildered than beseeching.

Nell: Poppy doesn’t do beseeching. If she wants something, she asks. Loudly. It’s the Terrier way. Mutley expects treats to be brought to him, which is just as it should be at his age.

Me: Flamingos don’t beg? Have you ever seen Malcolm do that?

Nell: Of course flamingos don’t beg. They don’t have the right faces. What’s the matter with you? We can’t have households across the country full of begging flamingos. The mere thought.

Me: Have you lot ever considered letting us eat in peace?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous. If we weren’t there you would miss us terribly. How many times have I heard you say “Where’s Nell?” if I am late to the table?

Me: Only because you are always there.

Nell: Where else would you want me to be?

Me: I know. Sorry.

Me: What a beautiful day.

Nell: Yes. Harriet was so happy to be back on the beach again.

Me: Her back leg seems fine but we will know more later when we see Tom the vet.

Nell: It has certainly lifted her spirits. She was dancing round the kitchen with Malcolm just now.

Me: I think Malcolm might have a bit of a thing for Harriet.

Nell: Why?

Me: He blushes when he sees her.

Nell: Malcolm is a flamingo. He blushes when he sees anyone. He is one big blush.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: Harriet has a number of admirers. AJ, the gardening Afghan, wrote her a poem.

Me: Did he?

Nell: It wasn’t very good. She showed it to me.

Me: What did it say?

Nell: ” Oh Harriet, my lovely, with your conker brown coat.

You sing like an angel

You spring like a goat.”

Me: She is very light-footed.

Nell: I haven’t finished.

“You smell like a rose,

You buzz like a bee.

Oh conker brown Harriet,

I wish you loved me.”

Me: Sweet. Unrequited love.

Nell: Yes. On second thoughts you might be right about Malcolm. We need to find him a nice lady bird.

Me: A ladybird wouldn’t be right for him, Nell. They are far too small and they bite.

Nell: No. A female bird. Preferably a flamingo. I might get Gladys to ask Count Bingo. She is seeing him later.

Me: For dinner?

Nell: No, they are going surfing. He’s a natural, apparently.

Me: I still think I might give it a go.

Nell: Stop right now. Some of us are simply not meant to surf. Let’s embrace our individuality.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Look at you all soft-eyed this morning.

Nell: I don’t know what you mean.

Me: I know when you are in a good mood.

Nell: Yesterday was most enjoyable.

Me: Yes, it was.

Nell: Collecting Chris from the station, taking Harriet on a gentle walk, dinner at the pub and a walk home in the cool night air.

Me: Did you enjoy your fish?

Nell: Yes. I do like the Catch of the Day.

Me: Have you ever considered going vegan?

Nell: Certainly not.

Me: Apparently it’s very beneficial to your health.

Nell: I would advise you not to mention vegans around Poppy. There was an incident at the cafe with a group of vegan spaniels from Colchester last week and she hasn’t quite recovered.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: They felt she offered a very limited menu for vegans. They suggested Poppy was behind the times.

Me: They didn’t?

Nell: I’m afraid so. She was most upset.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Fortunately David was able to console her with an excellent review. He is becoming a respected food critic you know.

Me: We are talking about Dave?

Nell: Yes. He has an excellent palate. At our recent wine tasting David identified hints of vanilla and blackberry.

Me: He did?

Nell: Yes. It was impressive. His food column is extremely popular, of course.

Me: Food column?

Nell: Yes. He’s had a column in Barking Weekly for months. Dining with Dave. Everyone reads it.

Me: I never knew.

Nell: Living in a world of your own again.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Mutley is on the stairs again.

Nell: Yes. He is waiting for Chris.

Me: He’s got a perfectly comfortable bed.

Nell: He is choosing to wait there as he has an excellent overview and the twinkly lights keep him alert.

Me: He doesn’t have to be alert. He can rest. We will let him know when Chris has arrived.

Nell: In yesterday’s comfortable chat he pointed out than when one is deaf, life can pass one by. Sometimes he sleeps through important events.

Me: I didn’t know you had a comfortable chat.

Nell: Yes. Every evening. The family need their routine. Morning thoughts with the puppies and a comfortable chat with Mutley. Poppy dips in and out of both depending on her schedule.

Me: What if you are away?

Nell: If I am travelling I use the iBone and we WoofsApp. At home I just sit close by and use my commanding voice so he can hear.

Me: You have an excellent commanding voice.

Nell: Yes. When I was at drama school I was complimented on my diction and projection.

Me: I can see you on the stage.

Nell: Yes. My Lady Macbeth was renowned.

Me: I’m sure it was.

Nell: So, has he landed?

Me: He will text me.

Nell: Yes, but I know perfectly well that you have been tracking him on your iBone so just have a look.

Me: You told me not to.

Nell: A Labrador’s mind is open to change if offered the right biscuit.

Me: You’ve just had a large breakfast.

Nell: Good grief. It was a metaphor. Just check if he has landed, please, so I can get Mutley off the stairs.

Me: Chris just landed. Thank goodness.

Nell: Excellent. Now you can stop staring at your phone and join Mutley and I by the fire. He will be home soon.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You and Mutley look exhausted.

Nell: If you remember we were partying until late last night. The Cat certainly makes a powerful cocktail.

Me: I know. But we had to celebrate Ivy the Romanian bearded collie coming home to Lorna. It’s such wonderful news.

Nell: Yes. I admit I danced a little Labrador jig when I heard and I rarely jig.

Me: I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Labrador jig.

Nell: They are rare. You would be lucky to see one.

Me: Gosh. To think Ivy has been missing since 12th December. I wonder what she has been up to since she ran away.

Nell: All sorts, no doubt. I should imagine she will be needing to rest.

Me: Lorna definitely will. And all the people who have been looking for Ivy. It was a real community effort.

Nell: Yes. We must mention Doglost again. They do a wonderful job and deserve our support.

Me: Yes. I am so glad Ivy has come home. I can’t stop smiling.

Nell: I noticed. Someone else is coming home tomorrow, aren’t they?

Me: Yes. Chris is back from Canada for a month. I can’t wait. Are you coming to collect him?

Nell: Of course. I always do.

Me: You might even dance a little jig at the station.

Nell: A Labrador jig is never danced in public. You should know that.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Would you mind asking Poppy for a pot of Earl Grey and some of her shortbread, please?

Me: Of course. Is everything alright?

Nell: Harriet is having one of her intense days. I have been involved in deep and meaningful conversations since early this morning and now I need a cup of tea in front of the fire and the Archers Omnibus on the radio.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Harriet is of the opinion that not allowing walks is affecting her whole outlook on life. The world is a grey and gloomy place.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Fortunately I have a few ideas. One of them being a short walk on the beach tomorrow and a swim in the sea.

Me: She will love that.

Nell: Don’t tell her yet, though. I am monitoring her progress and can only make the decision spontaneously. David has offered to check the beach with his surfing friends before we go.

Me: Check it for what?

Nell: Trip hazards. You know what seaweed is like. Wretched stuff. He is going to clear a path to the sea for her and place pebbles along it to guide her way.

Me: How sweet.

Nell: He’s down there most days. Gladys is learning how to surf.

Me: Gosh. How brave.

Nell: I prefer to call it foolhardy. Black Pomeranians are not made for surfing but Gladys insists. I just wish she would hang her wetsuit outside it keeps dripping on to the utility floor.

Me: Why does she wear one? You all don’t?

Nell: Gladys is the size of a small cat with long flowing hair. She needs to be contained. Do be sensible.

Me: Swimming will be excellent exercise for Harriet.

Nell: Yes. I will double check with Tom the vet first, however.

Me: Maybe I should learn to surf?

Nell: Could you please just stick to gentle swimming? I’ve got quite enough on my plate with Harriet and Gladys. You surfing? Whatever next?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Why was Poppy comforting Dave?

Nell: She went for her New Year’s haircut and apparently he is not coping with the drastic change.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: You know what he’s like about hair. Wearing a wig at the first available opportunity. Wanting a man bun. I mean, really?

Me: Yes, he does admire AJ the gardening Afghan’s flowing locks and he loves the way he ties up the front.

Nell: Ridiculous. Anyway, when Poppy walked in with short hair he gave a desperate bark.

Me: Oh dear. Not one of his desperate barks? They are usually when someone leaves without him.

Nell: Exactly. I don’t know how many times I have explained to him that desperate barks cannot be used willy-nilly. Desperate times deserve desperate barks. Not haircuts.

Me: You are right.

Nell: Anyway, she has explained to him that it is much easier for her to keep it short with all the cooking she does and that it will grow again soon.

Me: Has he calmed down?

Nell: Yes. The Cat came round with a selection of wigs and some faux fur coats.

Me: He will love that.

Nell: Yes. Poppy made some fresh scones and we are having Cottage pie for tea which is David and Harriet’s favourite.

Me: Good.

Nell: Please tell me David didn’t just walk past with Gladys in an Afghan coat and a blonde wig?

Me: At least she’s not in your handbag.

Nell: The coat wouldn’t fit in my handbag.

Me: Of course not. Sorry.

Nell: Lunch and a stroll on the beach was just what we needed.

Me: Yes, it was. I love the feel of the wind in our hair and the smell of salt in the air.

Nell: Good grief. There you go again. You just get carried away. You can’t smell salt.

Me: I can.

Nell: It’s the seaweed.

Me: I can smell it as soon as we get near to the sea and so can Harriet because she starts her seagull squeals.

Nell: Harriet won’t be joining us for a while.

Me: I know but we both can smell the salt.

Nell: If you start talking about David galloping across the sand like a wild stallion, or Mutley wading into the sea like Neptune I shall leave.

Me: I never said a word.

Nell: Good.

Me: Although you look very fetching with your sandy nose, Nell, and your soulful eyes. Just like a Hollywood film star.

Nell: Ridiculous.

Me: I think Charlie would like that photo. You should send it to him.

Nell: I suppose it is quite flattering.

Me: And you can write:

“Charlie, my love, this is me

Thinking of you beside the sea.”

Nell: I despair of you sometimes, I really do. Quit while you are ahead.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I’m so glad you’ve forgiven them.

Nell: Yes. I was never going to be angry for long.

Me: Look at their adorable little faces.

Nell: I don’t think anyone could call David little.

Me: He’ll always be my little Best Boy.

Nell: Jonathan might not agree.

Me: You know what I mean.

Nell: So Tom the vet says Harriet is doing well?

Me: Yes. The good news is her leg is mending but the bad news is no proper walks for at least a week maybe two.

Nell: Yes. We are going to have to think of something. Harriet lives for her walks.

Me: Kev will take her on a short walk every day.

Nell: I’ve talked to Jim the Farm Dog and he will pay regular visits. Now that she has her iBone back she can also text him on WoofsApp.

Me: Good.

Nell: Malcolm will teach her how to play chess. He and Timothy enjoy a game and it will keep her distracted.

Me: That’s an idea.

Nell: David has offered not to go on walks either which doesn’t even bear thinking about.

Me: He needs his exercise but it is still sweet of him.

Nell: I think David’s friend AJ the gardening Afghan is the answer. He teaches yoga and some gentle moves and meditation might be just the thing. I meditate every day, of course.

Me: You do?

Nell: Yes. Poppy and I spent a few months at a retreat in Goa one year. Do keep up. It will be good for us all.

Me: I can’t see Gladys meditating.

Nell: Gladys needs to realise there is more to life than contemporary dance and living in my handbag.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Goodness me. What is going on?

Nell: I have had to reprimand Harriet severely.

Me: Surely not.

Nell: Yes. You won’t believe what she has been doing and David was complicit too.

Me: Oh dear. Stealing food?

Nell: No. Much worse. You know Harriet is on strict bed rest to allow her leg to heal?

Me: Yes. She is doing so much better.

Nell: Well, she won’t be if this goes on.

Me: Why?

Nell: She has been going to the top of the garden to flirt with Jim the Farm Dog over the fence.

Me: They are romantically involved, Nell.

Nell: I know he is her dog friend. That’s not the point. She was at the top of the garden. She ran up all those steps.

Me: I see. How was Dave involved?

Nell: He masterminded it all. He asked to go out and then propped the door open with Gladys in my handbag. He guided Harriet up the steps and stood guard while Gladys agreed to give a warning bark if someone was coming.

Me: I wondered why your handbag was at the back door. How do you know all this?

Nell: I fell over the wretched handbag. Gladys squealed and the next moment I saw Harriet running back down followed by her brother. When challenged Harriet remained silent but David confessed all.

Me: Don’t stay angry, Nell.

Nell: She is going to see Tom the vet this afternoon and we shall see what he says.

Me: I’m sure she is ever so sorry.

Nell: Thats the worst bit. She isn’t sorry. She is defiant and so is David. They said I have no right to stand in the way of true love and I am driving them mad with my rules and restrictions.

Me: Typical teenagers. Rebelling against authority.

Nell: That’s as maybe, but all privileges have been withdrawn until further notice. Gladys has been banned to the kitchen. No visits from The Cat. I’ve taken away their iBones and no watching television. They can read a book.

Me: But they’ll miss “Neighbours” Nell, and you know how much they love it.

Nell: No arguments. They can watch it on Catch Up tomorrow. Don’t you dare give in to them. I know what you are like. It’s for their own good.

Me: Yes. Sorry.