Elsie points at the table, where the blooming bunch of peonies sit, pink and luxurious. She sniffs, expectantly, and motions at the flowers.
I pull the vase towards me, and gently place it on the floor, so that Elsie can get up close. Elsie carefully puts her face down towards the flowers and breathes in. She moves from one flower to the next, comparing fluffy flower head with fluffy flower head. When she's smelt most of them, she lifts her head and gives her verdict.