Me: Good to see you dogs enjoying the sunshine.
Nell: Not any more. We have far more important things to do.
Me: It’s Sunday, Nell. Just relax. Sunday Songs isn’t until later.
Nell: How can I relax when someone has been interfering with our bowls?
Me: What do you mean?
Nell: David’s bowl was left untouched and so was another one but two bowls were placed precariously.
Me: Someone probably kicked them over by mistake.
Nell: There was no mistake,
Me: What possible reason could anyone have to do that?
Nell: Messing with our minds.
Me: Absolute nonsense.
Nell: It’s Pauncefoot. I know it.
Me: You do realise Pauncefoot is most probably a figment of Mutley’s imagination? He loved to make up stories.
Nell: Pauncefoot was seen playing ping pong in Paignton.
Me: By Dorothy?
Nell: Certainly not. Dorothy never goes to Paignton. By Ron Gilbert the Great Dane from Torquay.
Me: You haven’t seen Ron Gilbert in years.
Nell: We’re in the same WoofsApp group.
Me: And he happened to mention Pauncefoot?
Nell: No. I asked for sightings.
Me: Pauncefoot can’t be here and in Paignton.
Nell: He can if he takes the bus. It stops outside our house.
Me: I give up. The bowls fell together accidentally. End of story.
Nell: And we’re having roast beef for lunch.
Me: Lovely.
Nell: I told Herr Hoffmann it was risky but he just laughed at me.
Me: As well he might. It’s perfectly safe to eat meat again. There’s no evil cat waiting in the wings to pounce on you.
Nell: Do you think Pauncefoot has wings?
Me: Right. I’m going to pick up all the bowls, clean them and put them away.
Nell: Pauncefoot won’t like it.
Me: I don’t care. This nonsense has gone on long enough. Sorry.
