Me: Harriet is maturing into the most beautiful chocolate Labrador, isn’t she?
Nell: She is exceptionally lovely.
Me: I would call that photo a Symphony of Brown.
Nell: Here we go.
Me: Look at her elegant pose and the way the sun highlights the colour of her coat.
Nell: If you think waxing lyrical about Harriet is going to stop me asking why there’s a strange seal in the kitchen then you are very much mistaken.
Me: It isn’t a strange seal. It’s Roger Blubbery.
Nell: I know it’s Roger Blubbery.
Me: Why call him strange then?
Nell: He’s not supposed to be there.
Me: I invited him.
Nell: I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. Meddle, meddle, meddle.
Me: He’s lonely, Nell. And he’s only popped over for breakfast and possibly a little lunch if we have a mackerel going spare.
Nell: We always have a mackerel going spare.
Me: Well then.
Nell: He’ll still be here at dinner time. You mark my paws.
Me: I don’t want to touch your paws, thank you.
Nell: I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find him guest starring with the Welsh Corgi Choir at Sunday Songs tomorrow.
Me: I’m not sure he has the right voice for singing, Nell, but I know he’s an awfully enthusiastic clapper because when Knitwear Wolf collected him on his motorbike he clapped all the way here.
Nell: Rupert collected him?
Me: Yes. Roger sat in his sidecar.
Nell: So, Rupert is part of this too?
Me: Yes, I was talking to him about the situation and he agreed that it simply wouldn’t do and we should definitely rescue Roger.
Nell: Rescue Roger from what exactly?
Me: Loneliness.
Nell: Good grief.
Me: What’s a few mackerel between friends?
Nell: I give up.
Me: Sorry.
