A cold nose and sandy toes

Me: How was the beach?

Nell: Delightful. We had it to ourselves.

Me: I’m not surprised at this time of the morning.

Nell: A run along a frosty beach followed by a brisk swim is the perfect start to the day.

Me: I prefer a cup of tea in front of the fire myself.

Nell: The Cat would agree, it is rarely out of its silk pyjamas until midday. Lazy creature. As I always say: “A cold nose and sandy toes is the only way to face the day.”

Me: I know but I’m not a Labrador.

Nell: So, we have another busy day ahead. It’s the first time Shannon has visited so we thought we would welcome her with a song.

Me: That’s not going to be strange for her at all.

Nell: Less sarcasm, please. I wasn’t sure what Canadians like, so I called Michael Bouvier. He said you can’t go wrong with “Feeling Good” and he should know.

Me: Are you sure you aren’t mixing him up with Michael Bublé?

Nell: Not unless he is a Belgian Farm Dog too.

Me: Do you need me to do anything?

Nell: Only collect Chris and Shannon from the station.

Me: So are we ready for my birthday weekend?

Nell: Apart from Malcolm. I found him crying into his macarons. Unrequited love.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: I told him that flamingos and cats simply don’t mix but he’s smitten.

Me: Do I know her?

Nell: Kitten Kardashandrun. Dreadful family. All fur and no fundament.

Me: They sound familiar.

Nell: Did David just walk past wearing a Russian Cossack hat, a long coat and boots?

Me: Yes, although I think the hat might be Gladys. Sorry.

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