Nell: Why is David posing in front of my photo?

Me: Doesn’t he look magnificent? Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: You’ve had that photo on the wall for years.

Me: I know. I love it. You were only a puppy when it was taken.

Nell: But David’s constantly having his photo taken. He’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge. The paparazzi follow him everywhere.

Me: No, they don’t.

Nell: That Jack Russell in a trilby is always around.

Me: He’s the local reporter from the Daily Growl. It’s the Afghan who takes the pictures.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No.

Nell: Much as I enjoy admiring David, I’d still like to know why he’s being photographed today.

Me: He did a Very Good Thing.

Nell: I’m extremely pleased to hear that.

Me: Yes, so was I. In fact, I was so pleased I asked him to pose for a photo.

Nell: Would it be possible to know what the Very Good Thing was?

Me: He didn’t eat anyone’s breakfast by mistake.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: He was about to eat Harriet’s boiled egg when something inside him told him not to do that, so he didn’t.

Nell: I think you’ll find it was not Something inside him, but Someone beside him.

Me: How do you know that?

Nell: Because it was me. I distinctly remember saying, ‘Don’t do that, David.’

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Quite.

Me: He must have thought you were his inner conscience.

Nell: Only if his inner conscience sounds like his aunt.

Me: You have a voice like someone’s inner conscience, Nell.

Nell: Stop making excuses for him.

Me: Whatever the reason he still didn’t eat the egg.

Nell: I’m not sure Not Doing Something deserves a photo.

Me: Well, I think it does. Sorry.

Me: We had a nice time on the beach, didn’t we?

Nell: I thought so.

Me: You decided the best thing to do would be to sit and wait for the others to come back from the sea.

Nell: The tide was far too far out for me to walk there.

Me: It was.

Nell: We could still see them.

Me: Yes, we could.

Nell: And we had a lovely chat.

Me: We did. I always enjoy my conversations with you.

Nell: It would have been better if you’d remembered to bring a flask of tea and some of Herr Hoffmann’s German biscuits.

Me: I know, but at least you were able to drink from the stream.

Nell: Yes. It’s all about compromise.

Me: It is. Talking of compromises, did you see that elderly dog in its lovely chariot?

Nell: Chariot? Don’t you mean pushchair?

Me: I think chariot sounds better.

Nell: Why?

Me: It’s more like you. Boudicca the warrior queen.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: Riding into battle in her chariot.

Nell: What are you talking about?

Me: Kev was thinking of adapting the old pram for you.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Using the frame to make you a chariot.

Nell: I am not a baby.

Me: No, but you get tired very easily nowadays. We want to take you with us.

Nell: I can still walk.

Me: Yes. It’s a compromise. You can walk a little and rest a little.

Nell: I’ll think about it.

Me: Lots of elderly dogs do the same.

Nell: I’m not sure I’m ready for a chariot yet.

Me: Life is all about compromises, isn’t it?

Nell: You’re right. I’m never not going to be with you, by the way. You and Me. Always. You know that.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: You’re up early this morning.

Me: It’s my Wednesday Writers workshop.

Nell: Any news on the little cottage in the middle of nowhere?

Me: Not yet. We have to work out what we can afford to offer them first.

Nell: I thought I handled the initial call to the estate agents really well.

Me: You did, in your own way.

Nell: I merely told them the cottage was in need of love and we were the family to provide it.

Me: Yes, but unfortunately love isn’t enough.

Nell: It should be.

Me: If it was, we would be staying here.

Nell: True.

Me: What about the voting for Our Devon Darling? Harriet looks worried.

Nell: No wonder. She and Stephen Seagull are nose to beak.

Me: You mean neck and neck.

Nell: I do not.

Me: How can that be?

Nell: The Beefies have been voting in high numbers and Lady C has called in some favours at NOIR.

Me: The Notorious Organisation of International Rooks?

Nell: I know what it is.

Me: What about The Cat and Lionel King?

Nell: They’ve split the Cat Vote, so they’re out of the running.

Me: Maybe they should step down and ask the cats to vote for Harriet?

Nell: You can’t ask a cat to do anything. They’re a law unto themselves.

Me: Well, I’m going to talk to The Cat and you can approach Lionel.

Nell: I suppose I could. But I shall expect lunch at the Cottage Hotel.

Me: I’m not buying you lunch. Kev and I can’t even afford to go there at the moment.

Nell: Not you. Lionel. He’s been wanting to take me out to lunch for weeks.

Me: I don’t know what you see in that lion.

Nell: I’m doing this for Harriet.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: I know you’ve got something important to tell me, so please do.

Me: You know the viewing on Saturday went on much longer than we expected?

Nell: Yes. Nearly an hour. The couple were still there when we got back from our walk.

Me: They were. Kev even spoke to them.

Nell: I hope he told them to hurry along home.

Me: Of course he didn’t. He was nice and friendly. They told him we have a lovely house.

Nell: We do, but I’m glad they appreciated it.

Me: They loved it.

Nell: So they should.

Me: In fact they loved it so much they put in an offer.

Nell: Seriously?

Me: Yes, and we’ve accepted it.

Nell: You’ve accepted it?

Me: We have.

Nell: Without asking me?

Me: They offered us the full price.

Nell: The full reduced price?

Me: Yes.

Nell: I should have been consulted.

Me: I know it’s hard to let this house go, but it’s good news.

Nell: What happens now?

Me: We haven’t given up on the little cottage in the middle of nowhere.

Nell: Good.

Me: We can’t offer as much as we did initially, but we’re hoping they might accept a lower offer.

Nell: I think I should be involved in negotiations this time.

Me: Maybe in the background. As an advisor.

Nell: Put your iBone on speaker when you call them so I can chip in where necessary.

Me: I’d really rather you didn’t.

Nell: I’m an excellent negotiator.

Me: You can be a little pushy.

Nell: Pushy?

Me: You like to have your own way.

Nell: Do you, or don’t you, want the little cottage in the middle of nowhere?

Me: Very much.

Nell: Then put your iBone on speaker and let me do the negotiating.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Why are you cuddling David? Has something happened?

Me: My darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy got caught in the rain.

Nell: Is that all?

Me: Look at his sweet face. Poor little thing.

Nell: First of all, nobody could call David ‘little’ and second of all, everybody got caught in the rain.

Me: Did they?

Nell: My fur is damp and Harriet is soaked.

Me: Yes, but you girls are tough. Look at his little face, Nell.

Nell: Oh, do stop. You’re ridiculous when it comes to David.

Me: He’s my boy.

Nell: I hope he hasn’t had a second breakfast. Second breakfasts are only for birthdays and weekends.

Me: Only a couple of lightly boiled eggs and some hot buttered toast.

Nell: Manuel made him pancakes for his first breakfast.

Me: I thought he only had cereal.

Nell: He had a bowl of cereal first and then Manuel whisked him up a few pancakes.

Me: I wonder why.

Nell: Because he’s greedy.

Me: I meant Manuel. He’s from Barcelona.

Nell: It’s an octopus thing. Making pancakes makes them happy.

Me: I could eat a pancake, myself, with lots of maple syrup.

Nell: Porridge is fine. It’s Monday and you’re going to aqua class.

Me: I’d rather stay here and cuddle my boy.

Nell: We all have things we’d rather be doing.

Me: What would you rather be doing?

Nell: Helping Kev with the sound effects for the animation.

Me: How exciting. What does he need?

Nell: The sound of a Labrador eating a scone, if you must know.

Me: With jam and cream?

Nell: Of course.

Me: Dave would be perfect at doing that.

Nell: David has had two breakfasts, already. Three, if you count the cereal. And the scone has to be eaten delicately.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Please tell me we don’t have a viewing today.

Me: It’s Sunday, Nell. There are no viewings on a Sunday.

Nell: Well, thank goodness for that.

Me: The last two couples really loved the house, so you never know.

Nell: Good.

Me: It’s a strange feeling because we need an offer but I don’t want to leave.

Nell: Now, Sunday Songs today is based on the word Darling.

Me: What a good idea.

Nell: Jolly Furs will be performing his smash hit ‘Dear Darlin’.

Me: Do you mean Olly Murs the singer? I heard he married someone from Devon.

Nell: No. I mean Jolly Furs the English Springer Spaniel. I don’t know if his wife is from Devon.

Me: My mistake.

Nell: Harriet is going to make a guest appearance dancing with David.

Me: Is that allowed?

Nell: We need to get the public voting for her.

Me: Yes, and not for that seagull, or lion.

Nell: Besides, everybody is trying to influence the vote.

Me: Are they?

Nell: Did you receive an invitation to The Cat’s Silver Darling Party this evening?

Me: I did.

Nell: Do you know what they are?

Me: What?

Nell: Silver Darlings.

Me: No.

Nell: Herring.

Me: I thought it was a fancy dress party where we wear silver and say ‘darling’ all the time like The Cat does.

Nell: It is, but we’ll be eating herring.

Me: I love herring.

Nell: Sundays are for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

Me: We’re still having a roast for lunch, Nell. The Hoffmanns must be over the moon. Herring is ever so popular in Germany.

Nell: Stop talking about fish. The Beefies are gathering and it looks like Stephen Seagull is going to perform a Beach Boys song with the Beefy choir.

Me: Oh no. Sorry.

Nell: Where’s Nigel?

Me: Asleep upstairs. He did an awful lot of swimming with Harriet yesterday, so he’s tired.

Nell: Is he with Dave and Harriet?

Me: Yes. You’re going to miss him when he goes home today. He’s become part of the pack.

Nell: Pack? We’re not wolves.

Me: Don’t let Knitwear Wolf hear you say that.

Nell: Talking of Rupert, he just delivered the newspapers.

Me: Why does he still do that?

Nell: He enjoys the early morning motorcycling. He often combines it with delivering warm woollens to the cold and needy.

Me: Cold and needy?

Nell: There’s many an animal who’s been most thankful to receive of one of his soft shawls, or cardigans. Myself included.

Me: But you’re not cold and needy.

Nell: I was when we got home from the beach. Anyway, have you seen the Daily Growl?

Me: Not yet. Why?

Nell: The short list for Our Devon Darling has been announced.

Me: Who’s on it?

Nell: You’re not going to like this and I don’t really know how it happened.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: It’s Harriet, Stephen Seagull, The Cat and Lionel King.

Me: Lionel King?

Nell: Someone must have voted for him.

Me: I’m surprised at The Cat, but Lionel King?

Nell: It’s a mystery.

Me: Each judge had a vote.

Nell: Yes.

Me: You and Dave will have voted for Harriet and Lady C will have voted for Stephen Seagull.

Nell: Probably. Birds of a feather stick together.

Me: So, either Nigel or Squirrel Nutkin voted for Lionel?

Nell: Nigel was an undercover judge. Maybe it was him?

Me: No. I think he wanted to include The Cat. It will have been Nutkin who chose Lionel.

Nell: It’s up to the public now.

Me: Harriet has to win. Sorry.

Me: Wasn’t it lovely to have some sunshine down on the beach again?

Nell: Yes. It was quite delightful.

Me: Did you see my action shot of Kev kicking the ball into the sea for Harriet?

Nell: Nigel wanted to swim, too.

Me: I’m afraid we had to keep both boys on the lead. There was a little puppy running around and they would have been to ‘boysterous‘. See what I did there?

Nell: Very funny.

Me: I hope we get some sunshine for today’s viewing.

Nell: There’s another one?

Me: Yes. And tomorrow lunchtime.

Nell: I’m very tired of being driven out of my own home.

Me: You know all you have to do is go on a lovely walk, don’t you? Kev and I have to get the house and garden ready.

Nell: You take my anti-slip mats away.

Me: Only briefly, Nell. The floor looks so much better without them.

Nell: I need them.

Me: I know. We put them all back as soon as we get home.

Nell: Well, I hope one of these viewings goes well.

Me: So do we. Believe me.

Nell: We’ve decided to make the judges’ selection for Our Devon Darling online, by the way.

Me: It’s probably a good idea.

Nell: Each judge gets one vote.

Me: Well, Harriet has at least two votes secured.

Nell: And so does Stephen Seagull. I’m sure that chicken is going to vote for him and the squirrel probably will, too.

Me: You don’t know that, Nell. Nutkin’s vote could go anywhere.

Nell: The Daily Growl says anyone who gets a judge’s vote will go forward to the public vote.

Me: So, it might not be a two-horse race?

Nell: Are you telling me a horse has entered?

Me: No, it’s just a saying. Sorry.

Me: It seems we have two merdogs in the family. Nigel is as crazy about swimming in the sea as Harriet.

Nell: Nigel is a guest.

Me: He’s still family, Nell.

Nell: Visiting family.

Me: It was wonderful to be back on our beach again.

Nell: Yes, it was.

Me: Striding along with the wind in our hair breathing in the invigorating smell of the sea.

Nell: Personally, I found the seaweed more whiffy than invigorating and I wouldn’t call it exactly striding.

Me: You walked quite a long way. The sea was far out.

Nell: Yeah, it was cool, man.

Me: Very funny.

Nell: I thought so.

Me: You even went paddling.

Nell: Yes, I did.

Me: You’ve always enjoyed a paddle.

Nell: It was good to be back.

Me: It certainly was.

Nell: Are we going to discuss the cheeky hot chocolate you had afterwards from the Gastrobus?

Me: I don’t think there’s any need to do that, Nell.

Nell: No. The photo says it all.

Me: It was my Back On The Beach treat. I worked dreadfully hard getting the house ready so Kev said I deserved it.

Nell: Fair enough.

Me: I won’t have one today.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: When we go to the beach.

Nell: I should think not.

Me: Even though I have to do all the Getting The House Ready again.

Nell: What?

Me: We have another viewing at lunchtime.

Nell: Another mass evacuation?

Me: Don’t call it that.

Nell: The llamas won’t cope with this.

Me: They’ll be fine. They’re staying in the field.

Nell: They were told not to cartwheel.

Me: I thought it might alarm prospective buyers.

Nell: I’m not sure you can stop a llama from cartwheeling two days in a row.

Me: Oh dear. Sorry.

Me: I’m afraid there’s lots to do this morning so you and Dave can’t stay under the table.

Nell: Ignore her, David. She’ll go away soon.

Me: Pretending to be asleep isn’t going to help, Nell. I know you can hear me.

Nell: Just keep your eyes firmly closed.

Me: We have a viewing at lunchtime and the house needs to be ready.

Nell: Stay steadfast, David.

Me: I know afternoon tea was a bit of a disaster but today is another day.

Nell: If necessary she can clean around us.

Me: Pretending you can’t hear someone is very rude.

Nell: Fine. David’s too heavy, anyway.

Me: I understand how tired you are but we really need to make the house look as good as we can.

Nell: Before we’re driven out into the cold and rain.

Me: It won’t come to that, Nell. We’ll find somewhere else to live.

Nell: I meant today.

Me: Oh, I see. Well, the good news is dogs are allowed back on the beach.

Nell: I hope you’re not going to suggest a picnic. I don’t think I could face another nut sandwich.

Me: It was peanut butter and jelly. Herr Hoffmann thought Nutkin might like it.

Nell: Who puts jelly in a sandwich?

Me: He didn’t realise jelly meant jam.

Nell: And on a scone?

Me: That was awful. Thank goodness your friend Dorothy had a pot of real jam in her handbag.

Nell: She never goes anywhere without it.

Me: What was she doing at afternoon tea?

Nell: She was supporting Nigel.

Me: The Cat shouldn’t have been there, either.

Nell: Neither should the Welsh Corgi Choir and the Whippets Institute Big Band.

Me: No. It did get a little out of paw.

Nell: No wonder I’m exhausted today.

Me: Yes. Sorry.