Labrador

For my second go with Microsoft Copilot I decided to ask it to write a 500 word story about Christmas set in a Cotswold village pub and including the pub dog and a special gift for one of the customers. I have asked ChatGPT to do this previously and it was quite successful.

Copilot: Certainly! Here’s a charming Christmas story set in a Cotswold village pub:

A Christmas Tail at The Golden Hare

The Golden Hare sat snug in the heart of the Cotswolds, its honey-stone walls glowing under the twinkle of Christmas lights. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of mulled wine and the crackle of a log fire, where Rupert, the pub’s beloved Labrador, lay sprawled across the hearth, his golden fur reflecting the flickering flames.

It was Christmas Eve, and the regulars had gathered as they did every year. Old Tom, the shepherd, nursed a pint near the fireplace, his weathered hands wrapped around the glass for warmth. Mary, the baker, had brought a basket of spiced biscuits, and the vicar, always partial to a good story, was deep in conversation with two visitors who had stumbled upon the pub while wandering the frost-bitten lanes.

Rupert lifted his head, ears twitching, as the door creaked open. In walked Henry, a quiet man in his sixties who had been a fixture at The Golden Hare for years but rarely spoke of himself. He always sat in the same corner, a modest pint before him, lost in his own thoughts.

But tonight, something was different. As Henry settled into his usual spot, Rupert rose, trotting over with an expectant wag. In his mouth, he carried a parcel wrapped neatly in brown paper and tied with red twine. He dropped it at Henry’s feet.

The pub fell silent.

Henry stared at the parcel. “What’s this?” he murmured, glancing at the landlord, Jim, who stood behind the bar with a knowing smile.

Jim cleared his throat. “Henry, it’s from all of us. We know you don’t talk much about your past, but Christmas isn’t a time to be alone.”

Henry hesitated, then carefully untied the twine and peeled away the paper. Inside was a beautifully framed photograph—a black-and-white image of a young couple standing by The Golden Hare decades ago, smiling in the glow of festive lanterns.

Henry’s breath hitched. His fingers traced the edges of the frame. “This… this was taken the year we moved here,” he whispered, eyes misting. “My wife, Margaret… she loved this place.”

Jim nodded. “We thought you might like to have a piece of those memories back.”

Henry swallowed hard, looking around at the familiar faces—people who had known him in quiet companionship for years, even without words.

Rupert nuzzled against Henry’s knee, tail thumping softly.

Henry exhaled a shaky breath, lifting his glass. “To The Golden Hare,” he said, his voice stronger now. “And to good friends.”

The pub erupted in cheers, Rupert barked his approval, and the warmth of the season settled over them all, lingering like the glow of the fire and the quiet joy of shared history.

Copilot: I hope you like this story! Let me know if you’d like any tweaks.

My comments: This is good, I like Rupert the Labrador. The pub name is quite convincing too. Let’s see if we can get a good book cover.