Nell: Is David begging for food again?
Me: He wants to share my porridge.
Nell: He’s had two soft-boiled eggs and a mountain of hot buttered toast. He doesn’t need porridge.
Me: He looks hungry.
Nell: He’s a Labrador. We always look hungry. It’s the look we learn first.
Me: He’s so adorable. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. Maybe I could let him lick the bowl after I’ve finished?
Nell: I lick the bowl. You know that. As Senior Labrador it is my job to lick the cereal bowl.
Me: Maybe you could let Dave lick it for a change?
Nell: And maybe not?
Me: It doesn’t seem fair when he’s put so much work in.
Nell: What work?
Me: Resting his head on my chair and looking lovingly into my eyes.
Nell: He’s probably looking lovingly at the porridge.
Me: Only now and again. Most of the time it’s all about me.
Nell: Except it isn’t.
Me: I know.
Nell: Moving on, today is Monday and the start of another busy week.
Me: I don’t particularly like Mondays.
Nell: Nobody does but there’s nothing to be done.
Me: Is anything in particular happening today?
Nell: The Big Cats are moving out.
Me: Beauregard, Mrs King and Roary?
Nell: Yes. They need an outdoor space.
Me: Where are they going to go?
Nell: The Cat has organised a tree house for them in the grounds of the Stately Home.
Me: How wonderful. A tree house is what they had at our old home. They are going to love it there.
Nell: Yes. Do you still miss our old house?
Me: I miss the view from my window, to be honest, but I love living in a village.
Nell; Did you just let David lick porridge off your finger?
Me: Sorry.
