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.

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