Me: Smiling, happy dogs. That’s what we all need to see on a Monday morning.
Nell: Tell that to Next Door’s Cat.
Me: What’s Next Door’s Cat got to do with it?
Nell: Let’s just say Next Door’s Cat has ruined the start of our week.
Me: What did it do?
Nell: It sat in the garden in the sunshine blatantly refusing to move. Even when asked to do so several times by more than one of us.
Me: Yes. I heard you.
Nell: The cheek of it.
Me: Was it in our garden?
Nell: No, but it was within easy sight.
Me: It’s allowed to sit in its own garden, Nell.
Nell: It wasn’t just sitting though. It was Gloating.
Me: You don’t know that.
Nell: I do.
Me: I’m afraid there is nothing you can do about it.
Nell: I hope it doesn’t expect to be Gliding with Gladys.
Me: I saw the llamas limbering up earlier. I like their shorts.
Nell: I’m not sure if it’s warm enough for shorts yet.
Me: It probably depends on how hairy your legs are.
Nell: I beg your pardon?
Me: Men wear shorts earlier in the year than women and llamas earlier than flamingos.
Nell: You won’t see a flamingo in shorts at any time of year.
Me: Do we know why the Beefies are pretending to be mallards?
Nell: Mallards have unlimited access.
Me: To what?
Nell: Most places. You never see signs saying ‘Don’t feed the mallards.’
Me: I suppose you don’t.
Nell: But we’re constantly being told not to feed the seagulls.
Me: Well, that makes sense. Although, close up they are clearly Beefies in tank tops.
Nell: By then the damage has been done. The chips have been shared, the ice-cream stolen.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
