Me: I could be mistaken here, but I felt you weren’t that enthusiastic on our walk.
Nell: It was freezing.
Me: No, it wasn’t. Stop exaggerating.
Nell: Fine. It was extremely cold and rainy.
Me: Other people have had much more rain than we have, Nell. There’s been a lot of flooding.
Nell: I’m very sorry to hear that, but it still doesn’t take away from our dreadful weather.
Me: What can I say? It’s autumn, ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.‘
Nell: I beg your pardon? I’m talking about rain, not fruit.
Me: I’m quoting from John Keats’ poem ‘To Autumn’. He’s one of my favourite poets.
Nell: I’m a poet and you never quote me.
Me: I do, Nell. Inside my head I often think ‘what would Nell say?’
Nell: Inside your head?
Me: Yes.
Nell: That’s no good to anyone. Poets need to be heard.
Me: Maybe you should have a cup of Earl Grey in front of the fire? You’re a little out of sorts.
Nell: Yes. Could you ask Rupert to bring me my towelling robe?
Me: Your what?
Nell: He’s made me a robe to dry my coat after a wet walk.
Me: How kind of him.
Nell: He’s a very thoughtful wolf.
Me: You should probably start wearing a raincoat when you go out.
Nell: I’m doing nothing of the sort. Raincoats are for llamas and corgis.
Me: Nonsense.
Nell: You could carry an umbrella.
Me: I don’t like umbrellas.
Nell: It’s not for you. It’s for me.
Me: So, you want me to walk beside you with an umbrella?
Nell: Exactly.
Me: You’re becoming a bigger diva than The Cat.
Nell: I am not. And don’t let it hear you say that. Nobody is more diva than The Cat.
Me: No. Sorry.
