- Sally Simpkins: I think I'm lost.
- P. C. Clod: Lost, eh? Ooh, I'll just make a little note of that.
- [gets out his notebook]
- P. C. Clod: Now, lets see. Erm, I was proceeding in a Southernly direction, when my attention was motivated towards an unfamiliar personage of juvenile appearance. Who volunteered information to the effect that she was temporarily disoriented and seeking assistance.
- Sally Simpkins: Pardon?
- P. C. Clod: So you're lost, are you?
- Sally Simpkins: Do you really think he's just wandered off somewhere constable?
- P. C. Clod: Well little Missy, to tell you the truth, might not be as straightforward as I optimistically surmised...
- Sally Simpkins: Huh?
- P. C. Clod: Yes, yes, I didn't like to say anything to her Ladyship but er... There's been a lot of these dognappings lately.
- Sally Simpkins: [disbelieving] Dognappings?
- P. C. Clod: This is definitely a job for the police. You leave it to the professionals. Oh yes, what's required here is the expert approach to relocating misplaced mutts. Willoughby, Willoughby, wibbly, wobbly, Willoughby...