Nell: How are the preparations going for this afternoon’s surprise engagement party?

Me: What on earth are you wearing?

Nell: It’s just a tiara.

Me: It’s a huge tiara.

Nell: I’m the guest of honour.

Me: But you’re not supposed to know.

Nell: I’m going to The Cat’s for tea. I always dress up.

Me: Nobody wears a tiara to tea.

Nell: I do.

Me: People will know you know.

Nell: So you’re saying Rupert shouldn’t wear his crown?

Me: I beg your pardon?

Nell: Ha! Just joking.

Me: Take the tiara with you and put it on later.

Nell: My handbag is full.

Me: The Cat must have loads of tiaras in its Dressing Up Box. Borrow one.

Nell: I can’t celebrate my engagement in a borrowed tiara.

Me: I give up.

Nell: Now, I know everyone’s busy but I feel it would look suspicious if there aren’t any bacon sandwiches for breakfast.

Me: But it’s not suspicious to go to tea wearing a tiara?

Nell: Not at all.

Me: Herr Hoffmann and his team are rushed off their paws, claws and tentacles. They’ve no time to cook bacon.

Nell: I thought it was a pot luck party?

Me: It is, but they still have to provide a lot of food.

Nell: Will there be a bouncy castle?

Me: Yes, although you never bounce.

Nell: The villagers will love it.

Me: I hope you’ll join in with the line dancing. The Welsh Corgi Choir have been rehearsing for weeks.

Nell; I only got engaged on Monday.

Me: You know what I mean.

Nell: I’m not swapping this tiara for a cowboy hat.

Me: Shame.

Nell: But Rupert might wear his.

Me: Good idea.

Nell: So Rupert can wear his hat but I can’t wear mine?

Me: You win. Sorry.

Me: I was thinking.

Nell: Oh dear.

Me: Even though we all go on the same walk down by the river it’s actually a completely different one.

Nell: No, it isn’t.

Me: You and I take our time.

Nell: As befits our advanced age.

Me: I wouldn’t have put it quite like that.

Nell: We’re senior ladies.

Me: True. You enjoy a quiet sniffari.

Nell: I do.

Me: I enjoy watching you and thinking my thoughts.

Nell: Don’t forget the taking of photos. It’s like travelling with my own personal paparazzi.

Me: While the others are always on the go.

Nell: No strolling or thinking thoughts with them.

Me: We don’t know that, Nell. Dave can have quite deep thoughts at times. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Only about bacon.

Me: Anyway, Kev strides along with Dave and Nigel and Harriet dashes in out of the water.

Nell: It’s exhausting even thinking about it.

Me: They love walking their way.

Nell: And we love it ours.

Me: Exactly.

Nell: So everyone’s happy.

Me: Yes. They are. And the moral of the story is just be who you are. Some of us dash and some of us dawdle.

Nell: I thought it was more about doing what we want to in our own way.

Me: That’s what I said.

Nell: We might take a different route but we still end up in the same place.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Sometimes it’s simply better to stop and smell the flowers.

Me: I agree.

Nell: I don’t think Harriet even sees the flowers.

Me: No, but she feels the refreshing cold water and the excitement of chasing her ball.

Nell: Anyway, I may enjoy dawdling when we’re out but not when it comes to breakfast. Shall we join the others?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: That’s Faye and Poppy at our old window.

Me: It’s one of my favourite photos. They loved each other so much.

Nell: Poppy is watching over her and the family now as a Guardian.

Me: Yes. I like to think she is.

Nell: I can’t believe you didn’t post our poem for Faye’s birthday yesterday.

Me: I was waiting to see if there were any suitable photos from her party I could share, but there weren’t. These days we have to be really careful what we post on social media.

Nell: Never mind. Here’s the poem:

‘I beg your pardon?

What did you just say?

A certain young person 

Is six today?

I know it’s not Harriet 

And it can’t be Dave.

He’s far too big

And not very brave.

Could it be Johnny?’

‘No, he’s nearly nine.’

‘Or Mummy, or Papa?

I haven’t got time

To keep on guessing 

I must know right away.’

‘It’s someone important.’

‘Could it be Faye?’

‘Of course it is Faye

You silly banana.

Who else would it be?

The next door farmer?’

‘It could have been Grandpa.’

‘Now don’t be a fool.

Grandpa’s older than six

And Granny is too.’

‘Well, I’m glad Faye is six

Because down here in Devon

Six is better than five

And not far from seven.’

‘Happy Birthday dear Rainbow.

Have a wonderful day.

We’re so happy to be celebrating

Our adorable Faye.’

Me: Dave is brave, by the way.

Nell: If you say so.

Me: Last year I celebrated with the family in Germany.

Nell: And this year you will be celebrating Chris and Shannon’s wedding in Toronto with them all.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Seeing the photo of Poppy and Faye at the window has made you a little sad, hasn’t it?

Me: It has. Sorry.

Me: Don’t you and Knitwear Wolf look amazing in your summer hats?

Nell: I knew you’d tell everyone.

Me: What?

Nell: People keep congratulating us.

Me: Do they?

Nell: Yes. Babycakes Gillespie gave Rupert a free coffee and a doughnut on his paper round this morning.

Me: That was kind of him.

Nell: The doughnut had ‘Congratulations’ written on it.

Me: Gosh. How thoughtful. Was it tasty?

Nell: Yes, but that’s not the point. Our engagement was supposed to be a secret.

Me: I know. I just couldn’t help myself.

Nell: Well, I suppose we might as well have a party.

Me: Are you sure?

Nell: We could hold it at the stately home and pretend it’s just a bridge afternoon at The Cat’s apartment with a few friends.

Me: Could we?

Nell: While secretly inviting the whole village and absolutely everybody we know.

Me: That’s a lot.

Nell: Having circulated flyers with our photo on them giving the time and the date and asking people to keep quiet about it.

Me: Quiet?

Nell: And choosing this Saturday because it gives everyone time to travel.

Me: So you’ve seen a flyer?

Nell: Of course I’ve seen a flyer. They’re everywhere. Even the Beefies have got one.

Me: They’re not invited.

Nell: Well, they’re the only ones who aren’t. Have you gone crazy?

Me: Dave thought we should make it inclusive.

Nell: Of everyone?

Me: It might have got a little out of hand.

Nell: What part of ‘don’t tell anyone’ didn’t you understand?

Me: I’ve messed up, haven’t I?

Nell: No. Rupert and I are actually rather flattered so many people want to celebrate with us.

Me: You are?

Nell: Yes, but that’s our secret. We’re pretending we know nothing so it can be a surprise. Understood?

Me: Absolutely. Sorry.

Nell: Just so you know, Naughty Nigel’s sofa privileges have been taken away.

Me: What does that mean?

Nell: If you see him on the sofa, please tell him to get off.

Me: But Dave can sleep on there?

Nell: David has done nothing wrong. Yet, I hasten to add.

Me: I had a strange dream about Nigel last night.

Nell: It’s Naughty Nigel.

Me: He was an estate agent, or realtor as they say in North America.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: And not a very good one.

Nell: Why?

Me: He kept eating the furniture.

Nell: Most rude.

Me: The owners of the houses thought so.

Nell: Was I there?

Me: No, You and Knitwear Wolf were away on your honeymoon.

Nell: We’ve only just got engaged. The honeymoon is ages away.

Me: What did you just say?

Nell: Nothing.

Me: Yes, you did. I heard you.

Nell: I might have made a little joke.

Me: I don’t think it was a joke.

Nell: Of course it was.

Me: Rupert popped the question on Sunday, didn’t he?

Nell: No, he didn’t.

Me: I knew he was going to propose. I knew it.

Nell: Well, you were wrong.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: He proposed yesterday after I told him how I feel about him.

Me: Where?

Nell: In our disappointingly small garden by the bins in-between rain showers, if you must know.

Me: How romantic.

Nell: I thought so.

Me: Did he have an umbrella?

Nell: Of course, but that’s not the point.

Me: And a ring?

Nell: We’re not bulls. I have Rupert’s promise which is more than enough for me.

Me: Congratulations, Nell. I’m so happy.

Nell: Not a word about this until we’ve had the chance to tell everyone. I know what you’re like.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: We need to talk about Nigel.

Me: Can I ask about Sunday lunch with Rupert first?

Nell: You were there.

Me: I know but I was inside the pub.

Nell: You kept looking out of the window.

Me: Only to see the Whippets Institute Big Band.

Nell: Don’t forget the Morris dancing llamas.

Me: Yes, that was a nice surprise.

Nell: Was it? They shook their bells in my face.

Me: They were a huge hit with everyone.

Nell: I couldn’t hear a word Rupert was saying.

Me: What if it was something important?

Nell: Then he’ll say it again.

Me: Did you manage to tell him how you feel about him?

Nell: With all that noise?

Me: Probably not.

Nell: Back to Nigel.

Me: What has he done?

Nell: He was extremely naughty while we were out at lunch.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: He tried to eat the Candle Clicker.

Me: Are you sure it was him?

Nell: There are bite marks and David saw him.

Me: Okay.

Nell: He took the stuffing out of the dog bed and threw it around the house.

Me: I wondered what all that brown fluff was.

Nell: And he stole David’s favourite toy and chewed it in front of him.

Me: That was very naughty. Did Dave get it back?

Nell: Only after an unpleasant tussle.

Me: Maybe Nigel was upset because he wasn’t invited out to lunch?

Nell: Dave and Harriet weren’t invited and neither was Malcolm, or Manuel.

Me: True.

Nell: The Hoffmanns made a delicious German stew with dumplings.

Me: It wasn’t a Sunday roast.

Nell: It was the German equivalent.

Me: No, that would be a Braten.

Nell: Stop splitting hares.

Me: It’s hairs.

Nell: Nonsense. Everyone knows hares like to stay in pairs.

Me: Right. Sorry.

Me: Do dogs have eyelashes?

Nell: Of course we do.

Me: What about eyebrows?

Nell: Yes.

Me: What about wolves? Does Rupert have eyebrows?

Nell: No, he doesn’t.

Me: Why do dogs have eyebrows and wolves don’t?

Nell: I have no idea.

Me: I’m getting my eyebrows trimmed and dyed before Chris’s wedding.

Nell: Why?

Me: They will look tidier, apparently, but I’m worried I’m going to end up looking like Alastair Darling.

Nell: Who on earth is Alastair Darling?

Me: He was a politician with black eyebrows and white hair.

Nell: You don’t have white hair and you’re not a politician.

Me: Nigel has some really long white eyebrow sort of hairs over his eyes.

Nell: Leave Nigel’s hairs alone, please. What do you think of this hat? Too much?

Me: It’s perfect for Sunday Songs.

Nell: What about Sunday lunch?

Me: I’d rather have roast beef.

Nell: Very funny. Is it suitable for my lunch with Rupert?

Me: Yes, although you might want to take it off if you’re sitting inside. It’s quite large.

Nell: And my pearls?

Me: Don’t take them off.

Nell: Are they suitable?

Me: Yes. They go well with your light cardigan. Will Rupert be wearing a cardigan?

Nell: I expect so.

Me: Do you remember when we first heard about a wolf wearing a cardigan in Iceland looking at frozen food?

Nell: I presume you’re referring to the shop not the country?

Me: Funny to think we didn’t know Rupert then and now he’s part of the family.

Nell: I can’t imagine life without him.

Me: Exactly.

Nell: What does that mean?

Me: You need to tell him how you feel, Nell. Stop taking him for granted.

Nell: He knows.

Me: Sometimes knowing isn’t enough. You need to say it out loud. Sorry.

Me: We had another lovely walk by the river, didn’t we?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Did you see Dave playing Cheeky Animals?

Nell: No.

Me: I did, so I win.

Nell: Did you say ‘Cheeky Animal’ while he still had his tongue out?

Me: No, I only saw it in the photo when we got home.

Nell: Then you didn’t win.

Me: But I’ve got a photo to prove it.

Nell: Too late. Cheeky Animals is a game of the moment. Catch it then, or never.

Me: I said it when I saw it.

Nell: Did anyone hear you?

Me: Manuel might have done but he was quite busy flipping pancakes.

Nell: Then it doesn’t count. Why are we having pancakes for breakfast? It’s Saturday.

Me: And?

Nell: Saturday means bacon sandwiches.

Me: You’ll still have bacon on Sunday.

Nell: We have bacon on Saturday and Sunday. It’s the weekend tradition.

Me: It’s a long weekend so Herr Hoffmann probably thought pancakes might be fun for a change.

Nell: I don’t like change.

Me: Well, I’m looking forward to my pancakes.

Nell: I might call Lionel on my iBone and order a Bacon Bap.

Me: I beg your pardon?

Nell: The van is still in the village and they do deliveries.

Me: Are you saying you’re going to eat a nasty Beefy Bacon Bap cooked by an untrustworthy lion and delivered by a hooligan seagull instead of a lovely fresh pancake flipped by a friendly octopus from Barcelona?

Nell: I might.

Me: I don’t believe you.

Nell: I don’t think anybody would believe you either.

Me: You have a point but it happens to be the truth.

Nell: Fine. I’ll ask Manuel if I can have bacon on the side.

Me: Dave is.

Nell: Why didn’t you tell me?

Me: Sorry.

Me: Isn’t the countryside beautiful at this time of year? Kev took that photo when he was out walking with Dave and Harriet yesterday evening.

Nell: Yes, it’s lovely. Could you stop taking photos of me, please?

Me: I’m trying to get you to look at the camera.

Nell: And I’m trying to clean my paws.

Me: Dave and Harriet never mind me taking photos.

Nell: David doesn’t like it either. Look at his face.

Me: He’s fine. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: You never respect anyone’s privacy.

Me: Are you doing anything nice this long weekend?

Nell: Rupert and I are going out for Sunday lunch at the pub.

Me: Kev and I are doing that, too. Maybe we could share a table?

Nell: I think not.

Me: Why?

Nell: Rupert has reserved a quiet table for two.

Me: It’s never quiet on a Sunday.

Nell: We’re sitting outside in the garden.

Me: Kev and I thought we might do that if the weather is nice.

Nell: What did I just say to you?

Me: When?

Nell: You never respect anyone’s privacy.

Me: I do.

Nell: Rupert and I would like a quiet lunch on Sunday without you taking photos of us.

Me: I won’t take any.

Nell: Yes, you will.

Me: I promise I won’t.

Nell: You’d better not.

Me: Unless there’s a particularly romantic moment when he takes your paw and you gaze into each other’s eyes.

Nell: Stop that right now.

Me: I’m only joking. Kev and I will eat inside. I understand completely that you two need some time away from us all.

Nell: Thank you.

Me: You do know the Whippets Institute Big Band are playing there on Sunday, don’t you?

Nell: That had better be a joke, too.

Me: It isn’t. Sorry.

Me: I’m glad you’re home.

Nell: So am I.

Me: Dave and Harriet hate it when you go to the vets for your massage and injection. They were on alert the whole time waiting for you.

Nell: I could do without the fuss and bother.

Me: No you couldn’t, Nell. It helps your arthritis.

Nell: Sticking needles in me and pulling my legs around.

Me: You lie on a warm mat and usually go to sleep. Chloe is always gentle with you.

Nell: I was talking about the nurse.

Me: She was pleased with you. You’ve lost a whole kilo.

Nell: I blame that Notorious Vegetarian James Beddall.

Me: He wasn’t anywhere near the vets.

Nell: All those salads and vegetables I’m being forced to eat.

Me: You love them.

Nell: What’s wrong with a nice fillet steak and chips?

Me: Not happening.

Nell: Or sausage and mash?

Me: Nope.

Nell: I’m having a Yorkshire pudding with my roast beef on Sunday and gravy.

Me: Sunday is different.

Nell: I told Rupert the soft summer cardigan he gave me will probably be too big.

Me: No, it won’t.

Nell: My dinner yesterday was green beans and a few biscuits.

Me: You love green beans.

Nell: With a nice piece of fresh fish and some buttered new potatoes.

Me: You can have the fish, but no potatoes.

Nell: Well, I’m having afternoon tea with The Cat today and you can’t stop me.

Me: Try to steer clear of the scones and cakes, please.

Nell: I’m doing nothing of the sort. If a senior labrador can’t enjoy the odd scone in her old age then what is the world coming to?

Me: I’m trying to keep you safe and well, Nell.

Nell: Life is not life without treats.

Me: You’re right. Sorry.