Me: Is there anything wrong?
Nell: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Me: You’re sitting on that cushion in an extremely huffy sort of way.
Nell: I am not in a huff. I am deeply disappointed.
Me: Did someone burn the toast?
Nell: Have you seen today’s Daily Growl?
Me: No. Why?
Nell: I’d turn to page 5 if I were you. There’s a rather interesting photo of a certain someone with a new friend.
Me: Knitwear Wolf hasn’t finally moved on, has he? I warned you he wouldn’t wait for ever.
Nell: Rupert has nothing to do with this. The culprit is far closer to home.
Me: Let me see.
Nell: Help yourself.
Me: That’s a photo of me on the beach.
Nell: Yes.
Me: It was the day I met that sweet elderly dog.
Nell: We can all see how sweet it is, thank you.
Me: It was such a dear old thing and so friendly.
Nell: You two certainly seem to have bonded.
Me: I wonder who took the photo.
Nell: Beefy reporters are everywhere.
Me: Why?
Nell: Read the caption.
Me: ‘Writer Sara Martin pictured on Bantham Beach with a new friend. No sign of faithful companion, Nell, however. Has she been replaced?’
Nell: Exactly.
Me: That’s complete and utter nonsense. You’ll have been there, Nell. I’m sure that’s Dave in the background.
Nell: Meeting other dogs behind my back.
Me: Don’t be silly. Someone is simply trying to wind you up and it looks like they were successful.
Nell: You never say I’m sweet.
Me: That’s because you’re not. You’re opinionated and bossy and unbelievably stubborn but you’re incredibly wise and supportive and I love you more than words can say. I’d be lost without you. Stop being such a silly sausage.
Nell: Sorry.
