Nell: What on earth are you doing?
Me: I’m sharing your adorable carrot eating faces.
Nell: Yes. I can see that.
Me: Look at the crunchy concentration.
Nell: Did you think to ask our permission?
Me: No.
Nell: Would you like me to post photos of you eating a doughnut?
Me: I haven’t eaten a doughnut in ages.
Nell: Licking the sugar off your lips.
Me: It gets everywhere.
Nell: Getting delightfully jammy.
Me: You mean making a mess of myself?
Nell: That’s what you’d say if it was us.
Me: I probably would.
Nell: I’m a senior Labrador. I should be allowed to crunch my carrot in peace.
Me: What about Dave?
Nell: David doesn’t care. He’s always crunching something.
Me: True. My apologies. I should have asked you.
Nell: Apology accepted.
Me: I won’t do it again.
Nell: We both know you will.
Me: Any news about Poppy’s recipe book?
Nell: Poppy says the Guardians haven’t managed to find it yet but they have several suspects.
Me: Who?
Nell: Let’s just say most of them have feathers.
Me: The Cat would never steal the recipe book.
Nell: The Cat has fur, not feathers.
Me: I was thinking of feather boas.
Nell: Of course you were.
Me: Who are the featherless suspects?
Nell: I have no idea.
Me: Could a certain lion be one of them?
Nell: Lionel is as devastated as anyone about this. He could barely rustle up a bacon sandwich this morning. I fear for tomorrow’s Sunday roast.
Me: That lion is a liar.
Nell: The Beefies are behind this. I’m sure of it.
Me: Are they still flaunting scones at everyone?
Nell: No. They’ve moved on to Victoria sponge.
Me: Did you say sponge?
Nell: His name is Savoiardi. Stop jumping to conclusions.
Me: Sorry.
