Me: Everyone is looking very worried. Harriet’s even sitting in your bed and Dave’s distraught.
Nell: Frankie the flamingo is still missing.
Me: Someone took a photo of her flying over the Hayle estuary in Cornwall.
Nell: That was last Sunday. She could be anywhere now.
Me: She looks a lot pinker than I thought she would. Maybe she’s been eating prawns?
Nell: Good grief.
Me: We need to keep our eyes on the skies. See what I did there?
Nell: Yes.
Me: And we need to listen out for honking.
Nell: Why?
Me: That’s what flamingos sound like.
Nell: I know. They’ve been honking away in our spare room all morning. We’re never going to hear Frankie above all that noise.
Me: I meant when we’re out and about.
Nell: Yes, we need to be on alert.
Me: Why are the flamingos here and not out there?
Nell: Henry and Horst are giving them an update. Didn’t you notice them go upstairs?
Me: They’re woodlice, Nell.
Nell: Everyone deserves to be noticed.
Me: True. Have there been any recent sightings?
Nell: I don’t know. I’m down here with you.
Me: We would have heard a great big ‘Hurrah!’ and everyone would have come running downstairs waving their feathers if she’d been found.
Nell: Waving their feathers?
Me: You know what I mean.
Nell: They’re flamingos not ostriches. You’re making them sound like burlesque dancers at the Folies Bergère in Paris.
Me: How do you know about the Folies Bergère?
Nell: Never you mind. Let’s concentrate on finding Frankie.
Me: There’s more to you than meets the eye.
Nell: What can I say? I’m a well-travelled animal.
Me: I know, but I never imagined you with feathers.
Nell: I don’t have feathers. I’m a Senior Labrador.
Me: Of course. Sorry.
