Sunday sulk

Me: Are you sulking?

Nell: I never sulk.

Me: That’s not true.

Nell: I’m just extremely disappointed in your cruel and heartless behaviour.

Me: That’s a bit harsh.

Nell: Denying me the pleasure of a walk.

Me: You were limping badly and it wasn’t your usual stiff leg. I think you pulled a muscle playing Shenanigans with the puppies.

Nell: I could have managed a gentle walk.

Me: It’s best to take it easy for a few more days.

Nell: A few more days?

Me: You are already a little better today so it’s working. How about a swim in Princess’s pool?

Nell: It’s full of llamas.

Me: Oh yes. I’d forgotten. They’ve probably only booked for an hour.

Nell: Who bathes in pyjamas anyway?

Me: I think they might be a little shy.

Nell: Llamas aren’t shy. They’re lazy. I know for a fact that Rupert supplied them with knitted swimsuits. They simply couldn’t be bothered to get changed.

Me: I don’t want to be mean but a knitted swimsuit isn’t really practical.

Nell: They are very popular with the larger animals. Wetsuits can be extremely unflattering for the bigger boned.

Me: Tell me about it.

Nell: Talking of larger animals did you see John arrive?

Me: No. Is he performing at Sunday Songs?

Nell: I don’t think so, although he has a pleasant baritone voice. He was carrying flowers.

Me: You can still sing when you’re holding flowers, Nell.

Nell: That’s not the point. He’s visiting Poppy.

Me: Was he wearing a velvet jacket?

Nell: No. Shorts and T shirt as usual. Poppy prefers casual.

Me: But not flip flops I hope.

Nell: Don’t be silly. No self respecting Doberman would ever be seen in a pair of flip flops. He’s wearing canvas shoes.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

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