Dauphy: I’m a bit upset this morning.
Hobbo: Why, what’s up?
Dauphy: That Winston Churchill bloke who you like so much.
Hobbo: What about him?
Dauphy: He used to get depressed.
Hobbo: So he did, yes.
Dauphy: Well, I’ve found out that he called his depression ‘The Black Dog’. That’s not very nice is it?
Hobbo: He didn’t mean anything by it. He loved dogs. It was just a metaphor?
Dauphy: He met a what?
Hobbo: It was his way of externalising it. Making it less scary.
Dauphy: Do you do the same when you get depressed.
Hobbo: I do, yes, but you are the black dog who lifts my mood and gets me out of that depression. Listen at this poem.
Black Dogs This black dog inside my head, Makes me sad, depressed. My black dog, who's just been fed, Is my best pal. I'm blessed
Dauphy: Aw, that’s nice.
Hobbo: Feeling better now?…