Nell: I’d like a word with you, please.

Me: What have I done now? I wore my hat all day and my earache’s a lot better.

Nell: It’s not about you. I’m doing some market research and need your help.

Me: What do we have to do?

Nell: The Daily Growl wants us to choose The Best David.

Me: The Best David? But there’s only one Dave.

Nell: I’m talking about a photo. We have four Davids to choose from.

Me: They all look the same to me.

Nell: There are slight differences. Ask that Afghan.

Me: I don’t want to ask that Afghan. What’s he doing here anyway?

Nell: He’s the photographer.

Me: Why is he eating a boiled egg?

Nell: He was hungry.

Me: Fair enough.

Nell: So, which David is the best?

Me: They all are. My Big Brave Beautiful Boy is perfect in every way.

Nell: Stuff and nonsense. Nobody is perfect. Nor should they be. Perfection is vastly overrated.

Me: You have a point.

Nell: It’s the imperfections that make us who we are.

Me: True. I suppose if push came to shove I would choose the first one.

Nell: I would have to agree.

Me: What does being chosen as Best Mayor actually mean? Is it only about looks?

Nell: No, it’s much more than that. David will have to sing and dance as well as bake a cake.

Me: Bake a cake?

Nell: He’s veering towards lemon drizzle at the moment, but is open to suggestions.

Me: What about his agenda?

Nell: His diary is full, if that’s what you’re asking.

Me: No, his political agenda. What does he stand for? What does he want to do as mayor?

Nell: More treats. Why do you think he’s baking a cake?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: It was wonderful down by the river, wasn’t it?

Nell: Yes, it was.

Me: Spring is finally here and everything is bursting into life.

Nell: It is.

Me: The way the sun cast its warmth and light through the leaves was truly magical.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: Harriet was in and out of the river. Bless her.

Nell: As usual.

Me: And the air was full of the smell of new beginnings.

Nell: And wild garlic.

Me: It’s definitely my favourite time of year.

Nell: Where was your hat?

Me: Yes, that was a silly mistake.

Nell: You have to keep your ears warm.

Me: I know. The weather was so lovely I thought I wouldn’t need it.

Nell: You were wrong.

Me: Yes.

Nell: And now you’re paying for it.

Me: Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my walk with you all and it lifted my spirits.

Nell: Next time. No hat. No walk.

Me: Fine.

Nell: Especially after Rupert went to all that trouble to find you a matching Beanie and scarf.

Me: Knitwear Wolf is very kind.

Nell: Herr Hoffmann is extremely disappointed with you.

Me: Why did you have to tell him?

Nell: He was going to make you a delicious hot chocolate but now you’re getting a herbal tea.

Me: Germans love their herbal teas. I remember staying in a youth hostel in Germany back in the 1970’s and being given peppermint tea. I’d never drunk it before.

Nell: And now you drink it all the time.

Me: I do.

Nell: Nothing beats a nice cup of Earl Grey, in my opinion.

Me: Tea is always the answer, although I would have loved a hot chocolate.

Nell: You should have thought about that when you decided to leave your hat at home.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Why are you sitting in the yellow chair with your head in a saucepan?

Nell: Never you mind.

Me: I do mind.

Nell: If you must know, there was some scrambled egg leftover from breakfast and Herr Hoffmann thought I could help.

Me: Isn’t that Dave’s job?

Nell: Not always. What are you doing downstairs, anyway? You’re supposed to be resting.

Me: This horrid earache doesn’t let me rest.

Nell: Back upstairs at once, please.

Me: You just want to finish that scrambled egg in peace.

Nell: Stop arguing. I’ll be up in a moment.

Me: How was your massage and hydro with Chloe?

Nell: Fine.

Me: She said you just floated in your life jacket.

Nell: Some days it’s best to float.

Me: The whole idea is to exercise your legs.

Nell: Stop fussing.

Me: I don’t think I’m going to be able to go to my aqua class on Friday.

Nell: Of course you can’t.

Me: I don’t like to miss it.

Nell: You can’t jump around in water with earache. Try and be a little sensible.

Me: I’m falling apart.

Nell: That’s enough. You’re tired and emotional because you haven’t slept properly.

Me: Probably.

Nell: Definitely. Now, leave me to complete my task in peace.

Me: Eating scrambled eggs isn’t really a task.

Nell: I’m under time pressure. This needs to go in the dishwasher.

Me: I’m sure Dave would help.

Nell: David is far too busy to be bothered with eggs.

Me: My darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy always makes time for food.

Nell: Not today. He has a photo shoot with the Daily Growl.

Me: Why?

Nell: He’s been shortlisted for Best Mayor in the Regional Finals.

Me: Best Mayor? I’ve never heard of that.

Nell: Can I finish this, please?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Could you tell Dave it’s just an earache and I’m going to be fine?

Nell: He’s on duty. Let him be.

Me: He’s watching my every move, Nell. Closely.

Nell: That’s his job. You shouldn’t be moving, by the way.

Me: I’m only writing.

Nell: You should be sleeping.

Me: The earache won’t let me sleep.

Nell: The Cat’s right. You need to wear a hat

Me: I’m not putting on one of The Cat’s extravagant hats.

Nell: I’m talking about a warm hat to cover your ears. I’ll ask Rupert for one of his beanies.

Me: You might as well get me a scarf while you’re at it.

Nell: Good idea.

Me: I was joking.

Nell: You need to keep your ears warm. I thought this might happen when we were down on the beach in all that wind.

Me: I was wearing a hat.

Nell: You needed one with ear flaps.

Me: Dave ate my All Concealing Hat.

Nell: He knows and he feels dreadful about it.

Me: It was a mistake. He was young. It happens.

Nell: Have you got a sore throat, too?

Me: It’s not as bad as it was.

Nell: Why didn’t you tell me?

Me: I didn’t want to make a fuss.

Nell: Herr Hoffmann is making chicken soup. He says that’s the best thing for the Weak and Ailing.

Me: I’m not Weak and Ailing.

Nell: I’ll be the judge of that.

Me: It’s just earache.

Nell: Harriet says you groaned in the night and hardly slept. It’s in her notes.

Me: Why is she making notes?

Nell: How can I possibly organise a successful Handover without them?

Me: Handover?

Nell: We’re working shifts.

Me: Shifts?

Nell: Caring for the sick is tiring. Look at David. He’s exhausted.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: It was magnificent down on the beach, wasn’t it?

Nell: It was certainly invigorating.

Me: The wind was blowing so strongly that I nearly fell over at one point.

Nell: Your wellington boots are a size too big.

Me: They’re fine. Wearing them means I can splash through puddles.

Nell: I like a good puddle.

Me: Harriet ran straight into the sea.

Nell: But not too far.

Me: You were in the best of moods. Kev told me when he took you out to the car you waited around the corner and bounced Harriet.

Nell: I enjoyed it enormously.

Me: It’s lovely to see you with a spring in your step.

Nell: After all the rain we’ve been having, a glimpse of the sun lightens the spirit.

Me: And sea air is excellent for blowing away any cobwebs.

Nell: Less of the cobwebs, thank you very much. We have enough of them to deal with at home.

Me: Tell me about it.

Nell: I just did.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: I’ve told Sidney to clear up after himself but he never does.

Me: I suppose he might need the webs again. Aren’t they reusable?

Nell: They’re a sticky nuisance. You should hear what Henry and Horst have to say about them.

Me: I wish I could, but I can never hear what they’re saying and I know it must be funny because everyone laughs.

Nell: They’re hilarious. You should ask David. He’s excellent at interpreting woodlice. He has keen ears.

Me: I loved seeing Harriet’s ears flapping around in the wind. It was like she was shaking off the blues.

Nell: Something we all need to do.

Me: I think I’d probably get a headache if I shook my head like that.

Nell: Not literally, figuratively.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Well, yesterday seems to have tired you all out.

Nell: It was rather a busy weekend.

Me: I love the way Harriet has made herself small enough to fit on the arm of my chair.

Nell: That chair has seen better days.

Me: Kev and I were only just saying that. I might get a new one when we move. It’ll do for now.

Nell: Make do and mend.

Me: Talking of yesterday, Herr Hoffmann is an excellent line dancer, isn’t he? Who would have thought it?

Nell: Bears are good at dancing. They’re much lighter on their feet than people realise.

Me: I was impressed.

Nell: We could have done without those cheerleading Beefies.

Me: They adore Herr Hoffmann. He’s a legend in seagull circles.

Nell: But there’s no need to screech his name everywhere he goes.

Me: It is a bit like the Beatles’ fans in the 1960’s. I remember going to see ‘Help’ in the cinema with my parents and girls screaming at the screen.

Nell: I can understand someone getting excited about a bear, but a beetle?

Me: They weren’t real beetles, Nell. It was the name of the band.

Nell: Moving on, you’ll be glad to hear it’s raining again and there’s a warning of strong winds.

Me: This weather is really getting everyone down.

Nell: I know. Even David is feeling depressed and he always looks on the bright side.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: A nice cup of tea in front of the fire and a good book is the answer.

Me: Do you remember when Mutley used to read to us?

Nell: I do. Rupert has a lovely voice, too. We’ll ask him. I’m sure he’ll oblige.

Me: He will if you ask him.

Nell: Don’t start.

Me: Sorry.

Me: What on earth is going on?

Nell: Nothing.

Me: Were you and Harriet attacking Dave?

Nell: What makes you think that?

Me: I saw you pretending nothing was happening as soon as you saw me.

Nell: It was just a bit of Sunday Shenanigans. Nothing more.

Me: I don’t think there should be any kind of Shenanigans on a Sunday.

Nell: We’d better cancel Sunday Songs.

Me: You can’t.

Nell: Then I should let you know that Gladys is performing an interpretive dance with the llamas to the Welsh Corgi Choir’s version of ‘Tiger Feet.’

Me: Why?

Nell: Roary requested it.

Me: He’s a lion.

Nell: His stepfather Beauregard is a tiger.

Me: Will he be singing, too?

Nell: Only in the chorus.

Me: I thought Sunday was a day of rest.

Nell: You’ve done quite enough resting. Where’s your tiger suit?

Me: My what?

Nell: You can’t perform without it.

Me: I don’t want to perform at all.

Nell: At least wear some tiger ears like the rest of us.

Me: I don’t have any.

Nell: Look in The Cat’s dressing up box.

Me: I hope tigers eat roast beef because I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday roast all week.

Nell: Of course they do, but it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t, as we won’t be tigers by then.

Me: Apart from Beauregard.

Nell: Obviously.

Me: Is Herr Hoffmann wearing tiger ears too?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: I thought everyone was joining in.

Nell: You can’t wear tiger ears over a chef’s hat.

Me: No. You’re right.

Nell: But he will be line dancing later.

Me: Seriously?

Nell: We all learned how to line dance at Roary’s birthday party yesterday evening.

Me: But I wasn’t there.

Nell: Well, you’d better catch up quickly.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: The puppies seem tired this morning.

Nell: They were up late playing Twister with the llamas.

Me: Twister should be easier with four legs.

Nell: Have you ever played it with a llama?

Me: I can’t say I have.

Nell: Well, don’t. They cheat.

Me: How can you cheat?

Nell: Leg Nipping and Intentional Falling Over.

Me: Falling Over is part of Twister.

Nell: Not the way they do it. Anyway, what do you think about an Indian Takeaway this evening?

Me: I’d love that, although I’m not sure you dogs should eat it.

Nell: We’re going out.

Me: Where?

Nell: The Cat’s hosting a party for Roary’s birthday. Both Lionel and Herr Hoffmann are invited so there will be nobody in the kitchen.

Me: What about Malcolm and Manuel?

Nell: They’re going too.

Me: Is everyone invited except me?

Nell: Not everyone.

Me: The Welsh Corgi Choir?

Nell: They’re singing.

Me: The Whippets Institute?

Nell: You can’t have a party without a Big Band.

Me: Are the Beefies invited?

Nell: No, but they’ll probably show up. They always do.

Me: Are Henry and Horst going?

Nell: Of course. You can’t have a party without the Woodlice Brothers.

Me: Why can you have one without me?

Nell: Kev isn’t going.

Me: I’m glad he wasn’t invited either.

Nell: He was. He just decided to stay home with you.

Me: Am I really the only one not invited?

Nell: You were. I declined on your behalf.

Me: Why?

Nell: You could do with some quiet. It’s been a difficult time recently with the anniversary of Alex’s death.

Me: It has.

Nell: And an Indian takeaway with Kev watching a film together in front of the fire is exactly what you need.

Me: It is.

Nell: Happier now?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Could we have a quick chat, please?

Nell: Can I finish my boiled egg first?

Me: You can eat while we’re talking.

Nell: It’s very rude to talk with your mouth full.

Me: I’ll do the talking.

Nell: Fine with me. What do you want to talk about?

Me: Naughtiness.

Nell: You’d be much better off talking to David about that.

Me: No. Dave was a Very Good Boy.

Nell: I thought he was a Big Brave Beautiful Boy?

Me: He’s that, too.

Nell: Well, he ate the Beefies’ crusts this morning. Some might call that brave, but I think it’s foolish and naughty.

Me: You would know.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: There’s some kind of leaf you keep eating down at the river bank that makes you take risks.

Nell: Nonsense.

Me: I don’t know what it is, but you go dangerously close to the edge of the river to get it.

Nell: I’m fine.

Me: The river is flowing really quickly at the moment and you’re a senior animal with arthritic joints.

Nell: There’s no need to remind me.

Me: I worry you’re going to fall in.

Nell: Well, I’m not.

Me: I ask you not to and you don’t listen. And Harriet doesn’t listen either.

Nell: Doesn’t she?

Me: She is down the river bank and in and out of the water constantly.

Nell: It’s the Call of the Wild.

Me: It’s too dangerous at the moment.

Nell: Harriet loves to Dance with Danger.

Me: Stop saying that.

Nell: I’m joking. Harriet was paddling and I was simply enjoying a light snack of fresh leaves. Nothing more.

Me: I worry about you.

Nell: I know you do.

Me: Not listening is Naughty.

Nell: Then listen to me now. We’re absolutely fine.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: It’s always a lovely moment in the activity field when the puppies hear us calling them from the other side and come running towards us.

Nell: They’re not puppies. David and Harriet will be 7 in June and you were doing the calling, by the way. I gave a single bark.

Me: I know, Miss Grumpy Guts.

Nell: Mrs Grumpy Guts. Charlie and I were married. Remember?

Me: Do you still miss him?

Nell: Every day. But life goes on. It has to.

Me: Have you ever considered marrying again?

Nell: Never you mind.

Me: I was just wondering.

Nell: Someone has to ask me first.

Me: Knitwear Wolf would marry you in a heartbeat. And so would Lionel King.

Nell: Moving on, I’m glad to see Lionel’s doing well under Herr Hoffmann’s tutelage. His mane is clean and brushed and his eyes are brighter.

Me: Tutelage. That’s a very good word.

Nell: Thank you.

Me: Hoff has taken quite a few troubled souls under his wing recently.

Nell: Bears don’t have wings.

Me: Hoff does.

Nell: Don’t call him Hoff, please.

Me: Everyone does. He loves it.

Nell: Personally, I would like to be able to go out in the garden without encountering a line of Beefies waiting to be fed.

Me: They are here a lot.

Nell: It’s very tiresome. I shall be glad when the weather improves and they can go and torment the grockles at the quay.

Me: Did you just say ‘grockles’?

Nell: I meant tourists.

Me: You’re becoming a proper Devon lass now, using the local lingo.

Nell: We’ll have been here 7 years in November. The puppies really were puppies when we moved down here.

Me: And Mutley and Poppy were still with us.

Nell: They still are. Always.

Me: Yes. Sorry.