Rabbits and Pheasants

Me: Devon is a beautiful place to live, isn’t it?

Nell: It would be a lot nicer without those wretched rabbits.

Me: What wretched rabbits?

Nell: You must have seen them. Hiding in the bushes.

Me: A pheasant just flew past the window.

Nell: It’s probably Phineas visiting Walter.

Me: I expect to see seagulls and small birds but not pheasants.

Nell: We were discussing rabbits.

Me: I know, it just surprised me.

Nell: Phineas is perfectly pleasant for a pheasant, if a little dim. I’ll ask Walter to introduce you the next time he’s visiting.

Me: Thank you. Personally I don’t mind rabbits. What have you got against them?

Nell: They either pop up unexpectedly and run away as soon as you talk to them or they stare at you vacantly.

Me: Like a rabbit caught in the headlights?

Nell: I don’t have headlights. I’m a Labrador.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: Well, I’ve never had a decent conversation with any of them.

Me: Never say never.

Nell: I just did.

Me: Is there something wrong with Poppy?

Nell: Why?

Me: I noticed her hiding between Dave’s legs when we were out on our walk.

Nell: She wasn’t hiding. She was keeping a low profile.

Me: That’s not like Poppy.

Nell: You should have let her take her cutlass.

Me: Weapons are not allowed on the beach.

Nell: Do you know that?

Me: Everyone does.

Nell: Are cutlasses mentioned?

Me: Not specifically.

Nell: Well then.

Me: Dave seemed awfully protective and extremely alert.

Nell: He’s Poppy’s bodyguard.

Me: You wouldn’t think she needed one.

Nell: Well, she does, especially when she’s unarmed.

Me: Is there something I don’t know?

Nell: Where do I begin?

Me: I meant about Poppy.

Nell: Let’s just say, forearmed is forewarned.

Me: I see. Sorry.

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