Me: Don’t look at me like that. I feel awful.
Nell: Why do you have to go away again?
Me: I’m visiting my sister Charlotte. She is alone this Bank Holiday weekend.
Nell: All I wanted to do was rest my paws after all the excitement. Instead I have to trek across Devon to take you to the station.
Me: It’s only half an hour away, Nell.
Nell: You are going to miss the celebratory afternoon tea.
Me: I know.
Nell: You realise we made the headlines in the Sunday Growl and Barking Weekly.
Me: I’m not surprised. It was an amazing performance. The way Mutley flew down from the roof singing.
Nell: Mutley wasn’t meant to fly. The Beefies hit him with a mackerel and he lost his footing. Fortunately David managed to lower him down gently on his safety rope.
Me: Gladys and the chihuahuas covered it really well with their impromptu contemporary dance to ‘America’.
Nell: Yes, although it was all a little chaotic. Especially when the Welsh corgis launched into ‘I Feel Pretty’.
Me: Mutley wasn’t singing either of those songs.
Nell: No. He was singing ‘My Way’. It’s his default song in times of crisis.
Me: I don’t think anyone noticed.
Nell: The headline says ‘Mutley and the Martins do it Their Way’ so I rather think they did.
Me: Never mind. The audience went wild.
Nell: No wonder. They were being pelted with mackerel. Fortunately there were a number of flamingos and the odd heron who took it in their stride.
Me: How did they get past Owl Pacino?
Nell: Malcolm was on the door and they tied him up with an octopus. By the time he was released the Beefies had got through.
Me: Gosh. At least he wasn’t squidnapped.
Nell: Stop. You have a train to catch. Give our love to Charlotte.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
