Me: We need to talk about Dave.

Nell: He’s not back on the fish again, is he?

Me: No, but he’s turning into a bit of a diva.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: He wants me to hand-feed him.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: He likes it if I give him his food from my hand.

Nell: I know what hand- feeding is. Unbelievable.

Me: If I don’t do it, he likes me to say ‘Good Boy’ while he eats.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Kev says it’s nonsense and I should ignore it.

Nell: Kev’s right.

Me: He thinks Dave might be a little bit spoilt.

Nell: What do you think?

Me: He’s my Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: David is taking advantage of you.

Me: He caught a pheasant yesterday with a soft mouth and let it go.

Nell: I expect the pheasant was relieved.

Me: It was. But it shows he can be a very good boy.

Nell: When he wants to be.

Me: Yes.

Nell: The hand-feeding needs to stop. He’s not a llama.

Me: They do enjoy a carrot.

Nell: I think all the attention from the Beefies has gone to his head.

Me: Maybe. Or he’s missing the fish?

Nell: What?

Me: I’m considering offering him sardines on toast for breakfast.

Nell: Hand-fed?

Me: It’s the easiest way.

Nell: What did you have for dinner yesterday?

Me: Smoked haddock fish cakes. They were delicious.

Nell: And what about this evening?

Me: Tuna pasta.

Nell: And tomorrow?

Me: I rather fancy some cod.

Nell: They’ve got you, too.

Me: What are you talking about?

Nell: You’ve gone all fishy and now you’re turning David into a diva.

Me: Don’t be silly.

Nell: Stop eating fish and spoiling David.

Me: I don’t want to. Sorry.

Nell: This is not the way I wanted to start my week.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: With photos of Nigel and that wretched cat.

Me: He’s not a wretched cat. He’s Xav the Cat. He’s extremely handsome and he’s Nigel’s best friend.

Nell: He’s a cat.

Me: I thought you’d got over your annoyance with Nigel.

Nell: Who has a cat as a best friend?

Me: You did.

Nell: The Cat is different. It’s unique amongst cats.

Me: Everyone is unique, if you think about it.

Nell: Don’t start all that.

Me: Just saying. You sound a bit grumpy this morning. Did you sleep well?

Nell: Watching over you all can be a little tiring at times.

Me: I thought you were just watching over me?

Nell: I am, most of the time.

Me: But not last night?

Nell: No. Last night I checked on Alice and the grandchildren and then I had to check in on Chris, Shannon and Marvin because of the wildfires.

Me: They’re all fine. We FaceTimed yesterday.

Nell: I know you did but I needed to see for myself.

Me: Did it involve flying?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Did you have to fly to Germany and then over to Canada?

Nell: What are you talking about?

Me: I don’t know how it works.

Nell: Obviously not.

Me: I thought you might have wings.

Nell: Wings? I’m a Labrador, not a bird.

Me: But you’re a Guardian.

Nell: If you must know I just have to think very hard about you.

Me: And then you part the clouds and look down?

Nell: Good grief.

Me: It’s what I imagine happens.

Nell: Imagine what you like, just know that you are all being watched over.

Me: Through the clouds?

Nell: Enough.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: Looking at these photos I’m guessing David is no longer a Pescatarian.

Me: You’re right. Dave succumbed. The barbecue tipped him over the edge.

Nell: I thought it would.

Me: It was touch and go for a while when the Beefies flew over shouting ‘Don’t do it!’ and dropped a mackerel from the sky.

Nell: How rude and intrusive.

Me: But the lure of the steak, sausages and burgers was simply too strong.

Nell: What did he eat?

Me: Everything. With gusto and lots of ketchup. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: So, it’s bacon sandwiches all round this morning?

Me: Definitely. And a roast after Sunday Songs.

Nell: Beef?

Me: Of course.

Nell: Poppy will be delighted to hear it. We’re having beef, too, with Poppy’s special Yorkshire puddings and gravy.

Me: Don’t tell Herr Hoffmann but hers were the best.

Nell: You look tired. Did you have trouble sleeping again?

Me: I watched the England v France football game and it was so exciting that I couldn’t get to sleep for ages afterwards. Our boys played so well.

Nell: They did.

Me: I was proud of them.

Nell: Yes, so was I. Especially for the camaraderie both teams showed to each other. No nasty fouls just excellent play.

Me: Exactly.

Nell: Now, how are the preparations going for the family visit?

Me: Slowly but surely.

Nell: Did you talk to Nigel about the bunk bed situation?

Me: Yes. He wasn’t pleased and I’m not sure he’s going to keep off the bed.

Nell: He had better. It’s Faye’s bed.

Me: She probably won’t mind. She absolutely loves dogs.

Nell: I remember.

Me: It will be their first visit since you left us.

Nell: I’m still here.

Me: They’re going to miss you. Like we all do. Sorry.

Nell: You’re up early today.

Me: I can’t sleep. I’m too excited about the family visiting.

Nell: Only one week to go.

Me: I know. I’m counting the days.

Nell: Try not to wake David. He seems rather tired.

Me: Malcolm says being a Pescatarian can be tiring.

Nell: Only when you have to catch your own fish and Malcolm’s a flamingo. He eats prawns and shelling those is tiring.

Me: True.

Nell: Why is David covered in blonde hair?

Me: It’s Nigel. He’s shedding everywhere.

Nell: Have you got everything you need for tonight’s barbecue?

Me: I hope so. The butcher said skirt steak is the best for barbecues.

Nell: Never heard of it. I like a nice sirloin or a ribeye.

Me: Well, we’re having skirt.

Nell: I can’t see David resisting that.

Me: Neither can I, although the Beefies dropped off a lovely sea bass just in case.

Nell: In case of what?

Me: A Fish Emergency.

Nell: When you say ‘dropped off’ do you mean from the sky?

Me: In a bag and wrapped in paper.

Nell: It should go straight in the bin.

Me: It’s perfectly fresh.

Nell: Have you been eating fish?

Me: Yes, of course.

Nell: I see.

Me: Anyway, let’s see what happens. It’s Saturday so we’re having bacon sandwiches and I can’t imagine Dave will refuse one.

Nell: Neither can I.

Me: The grandchildren love fish, especially smoked salmon.

Nell: Like Poppy.

Me: Yes. Poppy and I would always share fish.

Nell: The Cat and I used to enjoy a smoked salmon sandwich for afternoon tea.

Me: You did.

Nell: Happy memories.

Me: Indeed.

Nell: And you will be making more of them very soon.

Me: I can’t wait.

Nell: But first you need to sort out David.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Harriet looks hot.

Me: She never stops running, except to look at the cows in the field.

Nell: You mustn’t let her overheat.

Me: It was quite late in the day, Nell, and they both had a paddle in the stream.

Nell: Is that our village?

Me: Yes. You couldn’t walk that far so you won’t have seen this view.

Nell: It’s lovely. And the flower?

Me: I think it’s a kind of lily. It was just sitting there in all its glorious colour smiling away.

Nell: Flowers don’t smile.

Me: How do you know?

Nell: Moving on, how’s the Pescatarian doing?

Me: Well, we’re going to have a barbecue tomorrow with steak, burgers and sausages.

Nell: And?

Me: And then we’ll see if the Pescatarian can resist.

Nell: David loves a good steak.

Me: I know he does. I can’t imagine he won’t be tempted.

Nell: I hope you haven’t ordered any fish from those seagulls.

Me: I sort of had to, Nell, or I’d miss my free fish.

Nell: Don’t you see what the Beefies are doing? The more fish David eats, the more he wants.

Me: Bacon can be like that, too.

Nell: Is he having sardines for breakfast?

Me: No. Mackerel. Rupert caught some.

Nell: This is all wrong.

Me: But Rupert is an excellent fisherwolf.

Nell: Of course he is. He’s Canadian.

Me: Talking of Canada, Chris, Shannon and Marvin are having a dreadful time in Toronto.

Nell: Why?

Me: The air quality is the worst in the world because of the wildfires.

Nell: They mustn’t go out in it.

Me: Chris has to take Marvin out.

Nell: They must both wear masks.

Me: I told him.

Nell: Fish for breakfast and wildfires everywhere. What is your world coming to?

Me: I know. Sorry.

Nell: What is Harriet doing?

Me: It’s not Harriet. It’s Elsie, the Chocolate Lab who’s in love with Dave.

Nell: Oh yes. I can see that now. What’s she doing?

Me: Eating the crops.

Nell: She shouldn’t be doing that.

Me: I know.

Nell: And who’s the elderly Golden Retriever?

Me: Maya. They’re our neighbours.

Nell: Is Maya in love with David, too?

Me: Don’t be silly.

Nell: It’s a simple question.

Me: No. Just Elsie. She goes all unnecessary when she sees Dave. Throws herself on the ground and then dances around him.

Nell: What does David do?

Me: Nothing really. He seems a little bemused by it all.

Nell: As long as he doesn’t encourage her. She’s obviously young and he’s a mature Labrador.

Me: I never think of him as mature. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Is he still a Pescatarian?

Me: Very much so.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: He wanted kippers for breakfast but Herr Hoffmann said there were too many bones so he had sardines on toast instead.

Nell: You’re going to run out of fish soon.

Me: Well, you’re not going to believe this.

Nell: I might.

Me: The Beefies have started a fish delivery business.

Nell: What a surprise.

Me: You can order online and they deliver.

Nell: Do they, indeed?

Me: If you subscribe you get your first order free and subsequent orders at a discount.

Nell: I can’t believe it.

Me: It’s a very good option for Pescatarians like Dave.

Nell: David isn’t a Pescatarian. He’s a meat eater.

Me: Not at the moment.

Nell: You can’t order fish from the Beefies.

Me: It’s quite safe. The website says all fish are checked by the Regional Fish Board.

Nell: Except there isn’t a Regional Fish Board.

Me: Oh dear. Sorry.

Nell: How’s David today?

Me: He’s not quite himself, Nell.

Nell: In what way?

Me: He’s wearing his favourite ring over his head.

Nell: He does that sometimes.

Me: In a crazy sort of way.

Nell: I see.

Me: He wouldn’t eat his boiled egg this morning.

Nell: Oh dear.

Me: Or Harriet’s. He wanted smoked salmon instead.

Nell: Spoilt animal.

Me: And he asked for pickled fish for his tea yesterday.

Nell: Pickled fish?

Me: Yes, and he’d already eaten tuna for lunch.

Nell: This is worrying,

Me: I agree, there’s definitely something fishy going on. See what I did there?

Nell: This is not a laughing matter. What about bacon?

Me: He doesn’t want it.

Nell: Seriously?

Me: And when Stanley delivered the Spaghetti Bolognese he asked for Spaghetti alle Vongole.

Nell: What on earth is that?

Me: It’s spaghetti with fresh clams. It’s actually rather delicious.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No. Of course.

Nell: Is he talking Italian?

Me: Not particularly.

Nell: What does that mean?

Me: He said ‘Ciao Bella’ to a passing spaniel but he does that anyway.

Nell: Sally won’t be pleased.

Me: She doesn’t mind him flirting in Italian. It’s harmless.

Nell: I meant about all this fish. David’s a meat eater.

Me: Not anymore. I mean, I don’t mind. I love fish.

Nell: It’s all your fault.

Me: I’ve never pushed fish on anyone, Nell. Each to their own.

Nell: You brought the Beefy fish home.

Me: Do you think it’s the reason?

Nell: I do. The Beefies have turned David into a Pescatarian.

Me: Only for now. It will wear off.

Nell: Don’t be so sure about that.

Me: Dave is never going to refuse roast beef or a sizzling steak.

Nell: He refused bacon.

Me: You’re right. Sorry.

Me: Look at darling Harriet. What a beauty she is.

Nell: Did you go with Rupert on The Popsicle Run?

Me: You would never think she was a spy.

Nell: You’re not answering my question.

Me: Harriet is the picture of innocence when in reality she’s fierce and cunning.

Nell: Aren’t you confusing her with Poppy?

Me: She’s been watching the Bus Stop for hours now so I know something’s going down.

Nell: It’ll be the bus to Kingsbridge

Me: No. There’s trouble brewing.

Nell: You’re in a lot of trouble if you went on The Popsicle Run with Rupert.

Me: Maybe that Italian rook, Sponge Finger, is meeting his friends?

Nell: You should know.

Me: We were helping dehydrated seagulls, Nell. Not only Beefies. And they were terribly thankful.

Nell: I bet they were.

Me: One of them offered me a fish finger.

Nell: I hope you didn’t eat it.

Me: No, I said I’d take it home and eat it later.

Nell: Why did you say that?

Me: Because it was a thoughtful present.

Nell: I don’t believe it.

Me: It didn’t look like the usual kind of fish finger.

Nell: I bet it didn’t.

Me: No breadcrumbs. It was more like a piece of fish.

Nell: What did you do with it?

Me: I took it home.

Nell: You did what?

Me: Don’t worry. I didn’t eat it.

Nell: Thank goodness for that.

Me: Dave did.

Nell: What?

Me: I was going to give it to Manuel to use in his paella.

Nell: Why?

Me: He’s from Barcelona, Nell.

Nell: Why give it to anyone?

Me: I didn’t. Dave took it before I could.

Nell: And how’s David today?

Me: Not himself. We think it was something he ate.

Nell: I wonder what.

Me: Oh dear. Sorry.

Nell: David looks guilty.

Me: He does, doesn’t he?

Nell: Do we know why?

Me: I don’t think he’s done anything wrong.

Nell: Just one bowl of cereal and one boiled egg for breakfast?

Me: Probably.

Nell: No Spaghetti Bolognese from the Bus Stop?

Me: It’s a little early for that. Even for Dave.

Nell: It’s never too early for David.

Me: I’m not a big fan of Mondays.

Nell: Not many people are.

Me: It’s back to the real world again.

Nell: I’m not sure you know what the real world is.

Me: I do, Nell. I just like escaping from it now and again.

Nell: Don’t we all.

Me: You’re not in the real world at all.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: You’re a Guardian. You’re up in the clouds.

Nell: Clouds? I’ll have you know there isn’t a cloud in the sky today.

Me: Really?

Nell: Yes, and the temperature has dropped so Charlie and I thought we might take a walk in the park this afternoon.

Me: Well, I’m glad to hear it. It’s hard for me to imagine Guardianland.

Nell: You can imagine almost anything else.

Me: True.

Nell: Just think of your favourite place and there you are.

Me: Like Peter Pan. ‘Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning’.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: That’s written on my mother’s grave.

Nell: I know. I went there with you.

Me: Of course.

Nell: What are your plans today?

Me: I thought I might ask Rupert if he’d take me on a Popsicle Run.

Nell: Absolutely not.

Me: Why? Stephen Seagull was rather sweet when he gave Rupert his award.

Nell: Sweet?

Me: Maybe he’s changed?

Nell: Dalmatians don’t change their spots.

Me: You mean leopards.

Nell: It’s a definite ‘no’.

Me: Fine. Sorry.

Me: Nigel had A Good Day yesterday.

Nell: Why?

Me: He started the day with two breakfasts.

Nell: Any particular reason?

Me: He ate Harriet’s by mistake.

Nell: Is he turning into David?

Me: No. This was a genuine mistake.

Nell: Was it really, though?

Me: Yes, because Nigel prefers red sauce on his sandwich and it was only when he realised the sauce was brown that he thought it might not be his.

Nell: Did he stop eating it?

Me; No, he’s a Labrador, but he told Herr Hoffmann about it and made sure Harriet had a new sandwich.

Nell: I’m glad to hear it. What else went well for Nigel yesterday?

Me: Before lunch he watched the Bus Stop and after lunch he watched Wimbledon with me and Charlotte and had strawberries and cream.

Nell: Nice.

Me: And in the evening he watched the football with Kev and England won.

Nell: It was exciting, wasn’t it?

Me: It was exhausting. I couldn’t get to sleep until gone 4am.

Nell: Poppy and I were the same. You had better have a quiet day today.

Me: It’s the Men’s Final at 4pm.

Nell: Well, have a nap after your Sunday roast.

Me: We’re not having a roast, Nell. It’s too warm and Herr Hoffmann is tired.

Nell: Being tired isn’t going to stop Poppy from cooking us a roast.

Me: Nothing can stop Poppy.

Nell: True.

Me: We’re having scones with jam and cream when we watch the tennis.

Nell: I hope you’re still going to Sunday Songs.

Me: We are.

Nell: Wearing hats?

Me: Yes.

Nell: And carrying a parasol?

Me: I’m not the parasol type, Nell. It’s a bit My Fair Lady.

Nell: It’s not a fashion statement. It’s to protect you from the sun.

Me: Right. Sorry.