Nell: I came downstairs this morning to find the kitchen full of corgis.
Me: Is that why Harriet keeps looking at the door?
Nell: No. She’s waiting for a message from Sally.
Me: But it’s Sunday, Nell. No post today.
Nell: Sally is sending a courier pigeon.
Me: Don’t you mean carrier pigeon?
Nell: No. It works for UPS. The Urgent Postal Service.
Me: Never mind. What’s so urgent anyway?
Nell: I don’t know.
Me: This weather is getting me down. Rain, rain, wind and rain.
Nell: Try being a corgi. Myfanwy says she hasn’t had a dry undercarriage in days.
Me: Excuse me?
Nell: Wading through puddles with short legs is not fun. The Dartmouth Dachshunds have cancelled all their performances.
Me: Maybe the Welsh corgi choir should do the same?
Nell: They won’t give up Sunday Songs. At least they know there’s a hot cup of tea and one of Poppy’s warm scones at the end of it.
Me: Did I see Joyce arrive earlier?
Nell: Yes. Mutley sent a Woofer to collect her.
Me: A Woofer?
Nell: Yes. It’s like a taxi. He uses them all the time.
Me: You mean Uber.
Nell: I do not. That’s a ridiculous name.
Me: How are the large animals coping in the barn?
Nell: Monty and Olive are accustomed to the cold but Alejandro is struggling.
Me: At least he has his thick alpaca coat.
Nell: Yes, but he’s a sunshine animal. He is used to a sombrero, not a sou’wester.
Me: I’m the same.
Nell: When did you last wear a sombrero? The mere idea.
Me: I meant I miss the sun.
Nell: Stop moaning and let that pigeon in. The urgent post is getting wet and it will be in need of a scone.
Me: Will do. Sorry.
