Mick and I bumped into the horses' owner at Woolies.
You know what our verging-on-unbearably cute new neighbour is called?
Whaddya reckon?
That's right: Coco!
(I'm deleting the possible 'a' the end of the name; far too suggestive of overly prescriptive coffee requests in the morning, the bane of the caffeine addict, just one rung above soy milk.)
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