Shortbread or Nothing

Me: There’s something wonderfully calming about watching dogs sleeping.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: Look at the way the morning sun highlights the warm tones of Harriet’s chocolate brown fur.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: While her brother Dave snoozes away in shiny black Labrador bliss.

Nell: How do you know David is in bliss?

Me: He ate three bacon sandwiches. Two on purpose and one by mistake.

Nell: How can you eat a bacon sandwich by mistake?

Me: Poppy made it for Gladys but one of the llamas twisted its ankle cartwheeling so she had to leave it and go and find an ankle support.

Nell: What’s that got to do with David?

Me: Dave’s in charge of clearing up today.

Nell: I know he is, I write the roster. Why wasn’t the sandwich wrapped up and put aside for later?

Me: It had already gone.

Nell: Down David’s throat?

Me: It was an easy mistake to make.

Nell: David simply cannot grasp the concept of Leftovers no matter how many times I try to explain it.

Me: I think most Labradors struggle with the idea.

Nell: Excuse me? Why mention Labradors?

Me: Well, you are known for your greediness.

Nell: Greediness? We are not greedy. We are Interested and Supportive.

Me: You can say that again.

Nell: Why should I? You heard me the first time.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: I’m afraid we Labradors are hugely misunderstood.

Me: That reminds me, the vet says your weight is the same as last time and we need to get it down.

Nell: One should never discuss a lady’s age or weight.

Me: It’s because of your arthritis.

Nell: Don’t even think of offering me a carrot with my mid-morning tea. Shortbread or nothing.

Me: It’s going to be nothing then. Sorry.

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