Me: Why is Dave hanging his head like that?

Nell: Henry and Horst are still trapped in that palm tree.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: David hardly slept a wink all night worrying about them.

Me: He’s usually the one they talk to, isn’t he? I must admit I can never hear them.

Nell: David has keen ears.

Me: I hope they’re alright.

Nell: So do I. Now, in today’s Morning Thoughts we discussed how to proceed with their rescue.

Me: Why wasn’t I included?

Nell: You were writing. Anyway, the plan is for us all to go to the French Cafe.

Me: All of us?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Even the llamas?

Nell: No. Obviously not the llamas.

Me: What about Princess and Sir Roger Blubbery?

Nell: You can’t have seals in a cafe. All that clapping would ruin the ambience.

Me: True. Am I included?

Nell: That’s still up for debate.

Me: I could wear my hat with ears.

Nell: Then you’re definitely not coming.

Me: Who is?

Nell: I will be there with Harriet and David.

Me: That’s not everyone.

Nell: We will also be joined by Malcolm and Gladys.

Me: Malcolm’s an awfully shy flamingo. Do you think he will cope with the stress of it all?

Nell: Malcolm is key to the whole thing. He will be rescuing Henry and Horst while we cause a diversion.

Me: Are you sure Malcolm is the right choice?

Nell: He has a long neck, sharp beak, gentle ways and he doesn’t mind sticky things.

Me: Right. What’s the diversion?

Nell: Gladys will perform an interpretive dance and I’m going to complain about the food.

Me: But what if they’re using Poppy’s recipes? You’d never complain about those.

Nell: Poppy knows it is for Henry and Horst.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: Why is everyone looking so worried? The puppies have been at the window for ages.

Nell: I can’t stop thinking about those poor little things stuck in a palm tree with no hope of escape.

Me: Did you just say ‘palm tree’?

Nell: Yes.

Me: I’m really confused now. Has someone gone on holiday? Who are the poor little things?

Nell: Henry and Horst, of course. Who else would it be?

Me: Is this about the visit to the French Cafe?

Nell: Yes. I knew we couldn’t trust that spider.

Me: Has Sidney done something to Henry and Horst?

Nell: He says it was a mistake but I don’t believe him.

Me: You’d better tell me what happened.

Nell: The Cat had chosen a lovely table by the window at the French Cafe so it could monitor all the comings and goings.

Me: Good idea.

Nell: When a rather bossy looking Beefy with a moustache and long apron asked it to remove its hat.

Me: Why?

Nell: It was blocking the view.

Me: Fair enough, I suppose.

Nell: He wanted The Cat to hang it on a hat stand in the corner.

Me: I haven’t seen a hat stand in ages.

Nell: That’s not the point. Henry and Horst were on the hat and Sidney needed to set up his webcam.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: Sidney had to move quickly so while The Cat was complaining he span a web to the neighbouring palm tree.

Me: As one does.

Nell: And Henry and Horst climbed off the hat and into the tree.

Me: Clever.

Nell: But they’re still there.

Me: What?

Nell: They’re all tangled up in the web.

Me: Why didn’t The Cat get them out?

Nell: Cats don’t like sticky things. Everyone knows that.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: David keeps hogging the fire. You need to talk to him.

Me: I’d rather talk to you.

Nell: Obviously, but you need to talk to David about sharing the fire.

Me: He was quietly warming himself and thinking thoughts. Let him be. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: You know he’s wasting away. All the salad we’ve been eating without even a slice of Poppy’s quiche, or a warm scone for later.

Me: It’s salad I wanted to discuss with you.

Nell: Why?

Me: Kev sent me a photo of you eating your salad.

Nell: If you’re going to criticise me for discarding the lettuce, don’t, because David ate it.

Me: I’m not, but I was shocked to see how you were eating it.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: Your back legs and rear end were still on the yellow chair.

Nell: Could we not discuss my rear end, please?

Me: You were half on and half off.

Nell: I was tired so I used a Labrador yoga pose and slithered.

Me: Slithered?

Nell: Haven’t you seen a Labrador do that before?

Me: I’m not sure.

Nell: When leaving a bed, chair, or sofa we place our front legs on the floor and gentle slither off keeping our back legs straight.

Me: That’s laziness, Nell. Not a yoga pose.

Nell: It’s quite difficult you know. You should try it.

Me: No, thank you.

Nell: Anyway, the latest on the missing recipe book is that The Cat is going to the French Cafe to take tea, or probably cafe au lait, in a large picture hat.

Me: Any reason for the hat, apart from a fashion statement?

Nell: Of course. Henry and Horst are travelling on it with Sidney Spider and his webcam. Do keep up.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You and Dave were having a cuddle. He was resting his head on your back.

Nell: He’s my nephew. It’s allowed.

Me: I know it is, but as soon as you saw me you gave me one of your looks.

Nell: I did not.

Me: And then you pretended it hadn’t happened.

Nell: Nonsense.

Me: Why can’t you admit that deep down you’re a big softie?

Nell: Because I’m not. I will allow the occasional cuddle, or chin rest, and that’s enough.

Me: I think you’ve become more cuddly in your old age.

Nell: Less of the old, thank you. Now, are you going to tell everyone the good news?

Me: Yes. Yesterday I had an appointment at the hospital about my skin cancer.

Nell: You’ve been dreading going because they found a mark on your back they didn’t like the last time you were there.

Me: Yes, and even though I didn’t think it had changed you just can’t know.

Nell: No, so it is always better to get it checked.

Me: It is. My skin cancer nurse checked everywhere including my lymph nodes and the mark on my back and the good news is it is all fine.

Nell: And you are discharged.

Me: Yes, I am. They gave me some chemo cream to use if the other skin cancer comes back but at the moment there is no sign of melanoma.

Nell: You still have to monitor your skin closely and be alert for any changes.

Me: I do, and if there is anything worrying me they want me to contact my doctor who will refer me.

Nell: But for now you are cancer free.

Me: I can’t tell you what a relief this is. I’ve been so worried.

Nell: We all have.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I’ve been thinking.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: This is actually an exciting time of year.

Nell: Is it?

Me: Winter is still centre stage but its performance is coming to an end and spring is poised in the wings waiting to make its entrance.

Nell: If you say so.

Me: When we were down at the river there were signs of spring everywhere.

Nell: I thought it was a little bleak.

Me: Snowdrops are popping up all over the place, daffodils are emerging, trees are starting to bud, and ducks are swimming along merrily.

Nell: Don’t bring ducks into this, please.

Me: Why not? I love ducks.

Nell: I’ll accept the snowdrops and daffodils, but ducks?

Me: Where there are ducks there are ducklings.

Nell: It’s early February. Stop leaping ahead of yourself.

Me: Just trying to find pocketfuls of happiness, Nell.

Nell: I know.

Me: I hope this year will be a better one than the last.

Nell: It will. Trust me.

Me: You were walking quite well which was a joy to see.

Nell: I do my best.

Me: I wish Herr Hoffmann would wake up.

Nell: Is that why you’re wishing winter away?

Me: Maybe. Things seemed much safer when he was in the kitchen making his German treats.

Nell: Lionel is doing his best and Manuel is making pancakes for breakfast.

Me: I don’t trust Lionel. I’ve tried. Is there any sign of Poppy’s recipe book?

Nell: Not yet. We need someone to check out that French Cafe. If those scones are Poppy’s we know we’re on the right track.

Me: I could always go there incognito.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Dave ate my all encasing hat but I have another one with ears the children gave me.

Nell: Stop right now.

Me: Sorry.

Me: You know when we were at the activity field yesterday?

Nell: Yes. You kept taking photos of me.

Me: You looked so beautiful I had to take them.

Nell; Most kind.

Me: Anyway, I thought I’d take an action shot of you actually doing an activity.

Nell: I never do an activity. That’s for spaniels and other eager type dogs.

Me: I wanted to make it look like you were taking part. The field is called Dog and Dash and the lady who runs it is perfectly lovely, so I wanted to get a photo for her.

Nell: Wrong choice of animal.

Me: Yes. I’m aware of that now.

Nell: A senior Labrador isn’t going to run along a plank, or jump through a hoop.

Me: All I wanted you to do was walk through a tyre.

Nell: Never happening.

Me: It almost happened.

Nell: It didn’t. I ate the biscuit and backed out to check there wasn’t another one.

Me: At least I tried.

Nell: Now, the recipe book is still missing so Sunday roast isn’t happening. It’s takeaway pizza instead.

Me: That’s not very Sundayish.

Nell: Needs must. The Welsh Corgi Choir are also going to have to cope with shop bought biscuits with their mugs of tea.

Me: That’s awful. Poppy would never have allowed it.

Nell: My point exactly. If we had her recipe book there would be shortbread.

Me: We have to find it and get it back.

Nell: I agree. David is starting to fade away.

Me: A slight exaggeration

Nell: The llamas are losing their Oomph.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: We cannot allow this to continue.

Me: You’re right.

Nell: Well, do something. You’re the ideas woman.

Me: I’ll put my thinking cap on.

Nell: There’s no time for hats.

Me: No. Sorry.

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.

Me: A walk on the beach is just what’s needed to lift the spirits. We’re lucky to live so close by.

Nell: For now, at least.

Me: People have been incredibly generous buying us cups of Earl Grey. I can’t thank them enough.

Nell: It really does help our little economy.

Me: I think spring is on its way.

Nell: Really?

Me: It didn’t feel as cold on the beach and Dave even went into the sea briefly.

Nell: He nearly took Kev with him.

Me: I wish we could let him off the lead.

Nell: He doesn’t mind.

Me: He’s such a darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He’s an optimistic animal.

Me: Have you noticed the snowdrops in the lane down to our house?

Nell: I have.

Me: And the daffodils starting to burst into life?

Nell: I wouldn’t call it burst, but I have noticed them.

Me: Maybe better times are ahead?

Nell: Well, I hope that means we find Poppy’s recipe book soon because she’s absolutely furious.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: She’s got all the Guardians looking out for it.

Me: I don’t think books go to Heaven.

Nell: Down here.

Me: Oh, I see.

Nell: Lionel is in a proper pickle without it.

Me: Proper pickle?

Nell: Stop repeating everything I say.

Me: You don’t usually say things like that.

Nell: My friend Dorothy says they’re serving scones at the French Cafe which taste suspiciously like Poppy’s.

Me: What French Cafe?

Nell: The new one by the harbour.

Me: Don’t tell me it’s run by rooks because we’ve been here before.

Nell: I don’t know who’s running it exactly but the Beefies go there a lot.

Me: Sponge Finger is behind all this. You mark my words.

Nell: His name is Savoiardi.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Can I talk to you about something?

Nell: It’s too early.

Me: I couldn’t sleep.

Nell: It’s the first of the month, by the way. Time to share the link so people can buy us a cup of Earl Grey.

Me: Maybe we’ll win the lottery.

Nell: Maybe you just need to get on with it. You publish a story every day. Let people support your writing.

Me: It’s buymeacoffee.com/saramartin and thank you in advance.

Nell: Now, what did you want to talk about?

Me: I noticed you are luxuriating on The Soft Rug In Front Of The Fire while Harriet is sitting on the hard antislip mat we put down for you to jump onto next to the sofa.

Nell: Her choice.

Me: She looks rather miserable.

Nell: She messed up the yellow chair.

Me: She was probably making a nest with the blanket.

Nell: It looks dreadful and makes it impossible to jump onto safely.

Me: It does make it a little difficult.

Nell: Bad animals sit on hard mats.

Me: That’s a bit harsh. You could have told me and I would have straightened it out.

Nell: You didn’t though, did you?

Me: I’m going to do it.

Nell: Going isn’t doing.

Me: And Harriet isn’t bad. She just made a mistake.

Nell: One she hopefully won’t repeat.

Me: I hope you aren’t implying that only good animals lie on The Soft Rug In Front Of The Fire because you aren’t always good and neither is Dave and he’s always on there.

Nell: Nobody is entirely good or bad. We all have our moments. We just need to acknowledge them.

Me: I’ll remind you of that.

Nell: Are you going to straighten that blanket out now? Nobody can sit on the yellow chair.

Me: Yes. Sorry.