Sunday goodbyes

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.

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