Nell: Now, today we’re celebrating Silvester in the traditional German way, apart from the fireworks.

Me: Did you know Germans call New Year’s Eve Silvester after Pope Silvester who died on 31st December 335?

Nell: I did not. I thought Herr Hoffmann was talking about a relative when he kept referring to Silvester.

Me: It is strange it’s called that, but also completely normal if you live in Germany.

Nell: Anyway, at some point today there will be iced doughnuts, also known as Berliners, filled with jam and enjoyed with a glass of Sekt.

Me: German sparkling wine.

Nell: The Cat has requested smoked salmon for lunch.

Me: With another glass of Sekt, no doubt.

Nell: Quite. After a brisk and invigorating walk we shall return home to lead pouring and a short nap in front of the fire before the festivities begin.

Me: I haven’t done any lead pouring for years. You melt it and pour it out to predict your future. Different shapes mean different things.

Nell: Dinner this evening is Raclette. A small electric grill allowing guests to cook tasty treats like bacon, steak and vegetables on the top.

Me: And a pan of crushed new potatoes covered with cheese and grilled underneath.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: It’s delicious and fun. Will there be dancing?

Nell: Do pugs fly? Gladys and the llamas have been practising all week.

Me: In Germany the sky explodes into fireworks everywhere and all the church bells start ringing at exactly midnight. It’s a huge celebration.

Nell: We might not have fireworks but I am sure we can manage a little bell ringing.

Me: I’m very excited about this, Nell. It reminds me of many happy times spent in Berlin with family and friends.

Nell: That was the idea.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: What I’d like to know is why you have to get so involved in all this seaweed?

Nell: Involved?

Me: You and Dave actually climbed into the middle of it and then you sat down. It must have been awfully unpleasant.

Nell: Have you ever sat down on a pile of seaweed?

Me: I can’t say I have.

Nell: Well, don’t make judgements. It’s surprisingly comfortable.

Me: Really? It doesn’t look comfortable.

Nell: It’s rather bouncy with a natural warmth. You should try it.

Me: I don’t think I will. Thank you. There might be all sorts in there.

Nell: There might be all sorts everywhere.

Me: True. Did you find anything? Harriet was doing some super sniffing.

Nell: Everything will be recorded in our report.

Me: What report?

Nell: The Sniffing Report. Do keep up.

Me: Will I be able to read it?

Nell: Certainly not. It’s FSEO.

Me: FSEO?

Nell: For Sally’s Eyes Only.

Me: Well, that’s not true, for a start. You’ll have seen it and so will Harriet and Dave.

Nell: Don’t forget The Cat.

Me: I can’t see The Cat sniffing seaweed.

Nell: Of course not. The Cat doesn’t do beaches. It’s focusing on Interiors.

Me: Last seen it was drinking coffee and eating smoked salmon sandwiches in our kitchen.

Nell: All part of the planning process.

Me: It was wearing a silken dressing gown and a wide brimmed hat.

Nell: With feathers?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Interesting.

Me: Personally, I don’t think it’s doing any Sniffing at all. It’s just gossiping with Frau Hoffmann.

Nell: Don’t dismiss gossiping. My friend Dorothy and I have uncovered many a secret that way.

Me: If The Cat can wear a hat then why can’t I?

Nell: There are hats and hats. And yours isn’t.

Me: Oh. Sorry.

Nell: You can’t post that video.

Me: I just did. I hope people turn up the sound and watch it until the end.

Nell: You’ll ruin David’s reputation.

Me: It’s hilarious. Kev and I couldn’t stop laughing.

Nell: Well, you’d better explain to everyone what happened.

Me: We were down at the beach and I was trying to film you in a romantic setting.

Nell: There was far too much seaweed around for it to be romantic.

Me: There was an awful lot.

Nell: And why does it always have to be me?

Me: People love you, Nell.

Nell: Most kind. Anyway, continue.

Me: I was just trying to get the angle right with the island behind you, and thinking of the music I might add to the video, when Dave let out the most enormous burp.

Nell: It was very inconsiderate and spoilt the mood completely.

Me: He didn’t care.

Nell: Boys don’t, in my experience. They’re even quite proud of themselves.

Me: It was so funny that I thought I would share it.

Nell: Mayors shouldn’t behave like that.

Me: It’s fine, Nell. No need to worry.

Nell: Now, I know today is Sunday, but it feels like we’ve had rather a lot of Sundays recently so there won’t be a roast.

Me: Fair enough.

Nell: And Sunday Songs will be gentle.

Me: Isn’t it always?

Nell: No dancing, or razzmatazz.

Me: The llamas will be disappointed.

Nell: They’re far too busy practising for New Year’s Eve. Don’t you worry about them.

Me: Is Sally staying on?

Nell: Yes. She says she has Things To Do down here in Devon.

Me: I wonder what those Things are?

Nell: You’ll be told if you need to know, and that’s all you need to know for now.

Me: Ok. Sorry.

Me: There was an awful lot of sniffing going on at the activity field.

Nell: You should have let Steve come along.

Me: It’s Dog and Dash, Nell, not Donkey and Dash.

Nell: Steve says he has a keen nose.

Me: Steve says a lot of things. Very loudly.

Nell: He has a carrying voice.

Me: I’m thinking of asking the Beefies where they got their noise cancelling headphones.

Nell: Stolen, I expect.

Me: It was interesting to see you had quite a different approach.

Nell: Approach?

Me: To your mission.

Nell: What mission?

Me: The Sniffing Mission. Your Sniffing Technique is very slow and thorough. Much like yourself.

Nell: I’m an elderly Labrador. Slow is my setting.

Me: Nigel and the puppies tended to dash around and sniff together whereas you went your own way.

Nell: I always do.

Me: They covered a lot more ground, however.

Nell: More haste less speed.

Me: Which is a paradox, of course.

Nell: Don’t start.

Me: The faster you go the slower you are. It’s nonsense.

Nell: Slow and steady wins the day. Ask the tortoise.

Me: What tortoise?

Nell: The one with the hare.

Me: Are you telling me we have a wig-wearing tortoise? Because I’m fairly sure they’re usually bald?

Nell; Good grief.

Me: Is it a long black wig? Because it might have borrowed it from Romeo.

Nell: Seagulls never share. Especially Beefies.

Me: He might have made an exception.

Nell: The tortoise is not real and you know it.

Me: I’d rather like it to be. I can just see it shaking its curly locks.

Nell: Stop right now. Back in the real world we have more sniffing to do.

Me: Could I ask what you’re hoping to find?

Nell: We’ll know when we do.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Dave’s face was a picture when Sally walked through the door.

Nell: We had no idea she was coming.

Me: She wasn’t sure if she could get away from London at all over Christmas so it was a last minute decision.

Nell: A very good one.

Me: Yes. When she said ‘Hello, Davey’ and he turned around and saw her was one of the loveliest moments I’ve seen in a while.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: I could hear music playing.

Nell: That was probably Sir Roger Blubbery. Princess gave him a French Horn for Christmas. As if the constant clapping wasn’t enough.

Me: It’s a seal thing. I’m surprised he can play at all. It can’t be easy with flippers.

Nell: He can’t. Haven’t you heard him?

Me: At least he’s giving it a good go.

Nell: And why does she have to sing along?

Me: I think it’s endearing.

Nell: Even the Beefies have started wearing noise cancelling headphones.

Me: I wondered what they were.

Nell: Moving on, Sally’s requested a meeting this afternoon for all those with sensitive noses.

Me: I have a sensitive nose. It gets awfully red in the cold.

Nell: That’s not what is meant, and you know it.

Me: So it’s a dogs only meeting?

Nell: No. Cats have an excellent sense of smell.

Me: Would The Cat really want to be a spy?

Nell: Let’s just say it turned up in dark glasses, a beret and a long raincoat this morning.

Me: Are Henry and Horst involved?

Nell: Henry and Horst are always involved.

Me: Do woodlice even have noses?

Nell: Some do and some don’t. They won’t be doing the sniffing, anyway. They’re much higher ranking.

Me: Are they spymasters like Sally?

Nell: I couldn’t possibly say.

Me: No. Sorry.

Me: We had a lovely Christmas Day, didn’t we?

Nell: It was exhausting.

Me: It was kind of you dogs to open your presents upstairs on my bed.

Nell: We thought you’d like to be involved.

Me: Christmas dinner was delicious. The Hoffmanns definitely deserve a day off.

Nell: I agree. Boxing Day is traditionally a leftovers day so we can all manage perfectly well on our own.

Me: To be honest I often enjoy Christmas Day leftovers more than the actual roast. Cold turkey is delicious.

Nell: I’m not a fan of cold sprouts.

Me: They’ll be going in the bubble and squeak later.

Nell: My friend Dorothy says sprouts go in salads nowadays.

Me: I’m not sure about that. Do you know what Nigel and Dave are up to, by the way?

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: I found them in deep discussion again.

Nell: Really?

Me: Yes. They seemed thick as thieves.

Nell: That’s a little harsh. I know David has been known to eat the occasional meal by mistake and Nigel has definitely stolen the odd baguette, but they are both much brighter than you would think.

Me: Nigel stole a baguette?

Nell: And a lump of cheese.

Me: How French of him.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No. Thick as thieves is just a saying, Nell. They seem quite close at the moment.

Nell: Yes. I’ve noticed that, too. Harriet tried to listen in but all she could hear was bacon.

Me: Sizzling?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: You said all she could hear was bacon.

Nell: No, they were discussing bacon.

Me: Oh, I see. I hope David hasn’t guessed his surprise.

Nell: What surprise? Why is David getting a surprise.

Me: You’re going to have to wait and see. Sorry.

Me: Merry Christmas everybody.

Nell: Merry Christmas.

Me: The only one of you actually looking merry is Marvin in Toronto in the snow.

Nell: It’s too early to be merry. We haven’t even opened our presents yet.

Me: Have you been eating bacon? I can smell it.

Nell: Christmas always begins with bacon.

Me: Correct me if I’m wrong, but you look a bit guilty to me.

Nell: Fine. I might as well tell you now.

Me: Tell me what?

Nell: Pigs in blankets are off the menu.

Me: Why?

Nell: Let’s just say we might have had a midnight feast.

Me: What?

Nell: It’s the Welsh Corgi Choir’s fault.

Me: Why?

Nell: Didn’t you hear the midnight carols?

Me: No.

Nell: We always have a snack after Sunday Songs so David thought pigs in blankets might help.

Me: And did they?

Nell: Yes. They were delightful.

Me: Herr Hoffmann isn’t going to be very pleased with you.

Nell: The Hoffmanns were there.

Me: Why didn’t you wake me?

Nell: You need your sleep.

Me: No wonder you’re all tired this morning.

Nell: I don’t think the Gluehwein helped.

Me: Dear oh dear. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy your roast turkey with all the trimmings.

Nell: Don’t you worry about that.

Me: Are we still having our traditional prawn cocktail starter?

Nell: Of course. Malcolm has peeled the prawns.

Me: Flamingos love prawn shells.

Nell: They keep their feathers pink.

Me: It’s lovely to know all across the world people are celebrating today.

Nell: We should spare a thought for those in need.

Me: Yes. We’re very lucky to have our wonderful family and friends. I’m so grateful for them all.

Nell: Much as I enjoy chatting, there are still presents waiting to be opened.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You were really sprightly down on the beach.

Nell: Sprightly?

Me: You walked almost briskly down to the sea.

Nell: Almost?

Me: Well, you like to stop now and again.

Nell: I’m admiring the view.

Me: You’re waiting for a biscuit.

Nell: It would be rude not to take what’s offered.

Me: It’s only offered because you won’t walk any further until you’ve had one.

Nell: Nonsense.

Me: Kev says you’re training me.

Nell: Of course I am. I’ve been training you since we first met. It’s what we dogs do.

Me: Not all dogs.

Nell: Now, it’s Christmas Eve and our guests will be arriving soon.

Me: It’s first thing in the morning.

Nell: You don’t know when they will decide to join us so it’s best to be prepared.

Me: It’s family, Nell. There’s no need to stand on ceremony.

Nell: I wouldn’t call Steve ‘family’, as such.

Me: Steve?

Nell: Steve the Donkey.

Me: I didn’t know he was coming for Christmas.

Nell: He has a couple of jobs in Kingsbridge today and then he is done for the year so I said he could stay in The Barn.

Me: That was kind of you.

Nell: Donkeys are not just for Christmas.

Me: Steve is, unless he’s staying on.

Nell: I don’t know what his plans are but we’re not turning him out onto the street.

Me: I never suggested we should. I just presumed he would want to go home at some point.

Nell: Steve doesn’t have a home. He goes where the work is.

Me: Well, he’s very welcome to stay with us for now.

Nell: For now?

Me: We’re moving house next year.

Nell: I know. Steve’s pulling the wagon.

Me: What wagon?

Nell: The removals one. Do keep up.

Me: Oh. Sorry.

Me: Dave is actually the size of a small pony.

Nell: I know.

Me: It’s no wonder there’s hardly any room for me in my own bed.

Nell: I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now. David’s always been humongous.

Me: Yes. He was twice the size of the other puppies.

Nell: And Harriet was half the size.

Me: Do you know why they’ve swapped shifts?

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: The Keeping an Eye on Sara shifts. Harriet used to do the night shifts but now it’s Dave.

Nell: David felt you would benefit from Night Time Cuddles.

Me: I’m not sure he’s right.

Nell: Why?

Me: A wet nose in your face in the middle of the night and a giant Labrador sitting on you in the early morning doesn’t actually help.

Nell: Doesn’t it?

Me: No, Harriet was much more careful.

Nell: David doesn’t do careful.

Me: I’ll tell you what though, his camel riding is impressive.

Nell: I agree. All Three Kings did well. Unlike Mary.

Me: I don’t think Gladys and the donkey got on.

Nell: Steve’s not a fan of fluff and that’s all a Pomeranian is.

Me: Nonsense. There’s much more to Gladys than her hair.

Nell: The llamas shouldn’t have interfered.

Me: They were worried she might fall off.

Nell: Mary didn’t ride into Bethlehem on a llama.

Me: Well, she did in our version of the nativity.

Nell: And did we need an interpretive dance?

Me: I liked it.

Nell: Moving on, the kitchen smells disgusting this morning and it’s your fault.

Me: Why?

Nell: Herr Hoffmann is pickling fish and red cabbage for Christmas.

Me: I see.

Nell: Apparently, your sister loves German red cabbage with her turkey and you love pickled fish.

Me: I really do. Sorry.

Me: I noticed you watching Harriet having extra cuddles with Kev.

Nell: Harriet can be rather needy at times.

Me: Says Mrs Green-Eyed Monster.

Nell: My eyes are brown and ‘pools of wisdom’ according to Kev.

Me: He’s right.

Nell: I know I have a special place in Kev’s heart. I’ve no need for jealousy.

Me: There’s plenty of room for all of you. I’m the same.

Nell: You are not. You’re constantly favouring David.

Me: Nonsense.

Nell: That animal gets away with everything.

Me: You’re in a jealous mood this morning. What’s the matter?

Nell: Sunday Songs has been rained off.

Me: Weren’t we having it in The Barn anyway?

Nell: Only later, and now I’m not sure about the camels.

Me: Camels?

Nell: It’s the Nativity.

Me: I didn’t know we had camels.

Nell: David, Nigel and Rupert have been practising for days. The Three Kings were supposed to ride in.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: And what about the Welsh Corgi Choir and the Whippets Institute Big Band?

Me: They’re the shepherds and sheep. They’re fine in The Barn.

Nell: They were all supposed to follow the donkey.

Me: Do we have one?

Nell: Steve always comes over on the Sunday before Christmas. Do keep up.

Me: Who’s Mary, by the way?

Nell: Gladys. Personally, I don’t see Mary as a fluffy Pomeranian.

Me: Does that mean Alejandro is Joseph?

Nell: Yes. He’s doing quite well for an Ecuadorian alpaca.

Me: I bet the llamas don’t agree.

Nell: They’re far too busy dancing with the Angel Gabriel, played by Malcolm, would you believe?

Me: But he’s a shy flamingo.

Nell: We needed wings.

Me: And the innkeeper?

Nell: Beauregard.

Me: Nobody’s going to argue with a tiger.

Nell: Have you seen Gladys when she’s annoyed?

Me: Right. Sorry.