Not such a big revelation but Mama J is now 37 years old. Yes, folks that is 37 and not 7 years old! However she really showed herself up in a very childish way indeed on Saturday evening. She was left squealing like a girl. Now I know she is a girl but well a young female child would have more guts and grit about them than Mama J showed.
Granny and Grandpa were out for a meal with a group of neighbours, therefore Mama J and I were left for a girlie evening in. Sadly we didn’t do face packs and paint each other nails, well claws in my case. We sat and watched the previous evening’s telly of The Crystal Maze and The Graham Norton Show. It was entertaining enough especially Graham Norton’s programme as he always seems to get the most out of his guests.
   Following The Voice Kids it was time to get ready for bed. I know we live such a rock and roll lifestyle in our household. Mama J was in the kitchen when I dashed upstairs and bounced about on Mama J’s bed without going out for a wee. I’m trying to bring some cheekiness into our lives but if that’s as naughty as my unruly behaviour gets, I think I better give Ozzy Osbourne a call to find me some bats heads to eat… Or would a squirrel do as we have plenty of them roaming the trees around here?
   After a shake of my biscuit container and the shout of, “Treat!” I was back downstairs munching away and then out into the yard doing what nature and Mama J intended, my evening wee! Following my ablutions the fun really began to kick off!
Mama J got ready for bed and we watched Mrs Brown’s Boys followed by the BBC News. Everything was going well until Mama J put Law and Order UK on. No, it wasn’t Bradley Walsh’s acting talents that were the crime Mama J was fearing (sorry Bradley just cracking a joke I think you’re a good actor really) but in the corner of the room right above Mama J’s bedroom door sat a spider! Oh no here we go again!
   The lamp beside the bed went on and Mama J flew out of bed hoping that it was just a moth. On closer inspection it was definitely a bloody spider. Mama J got her fly swat out but it was perched up high where the wall meets the ceiling. By this point the little bugger started running and Mama J started screaming in a shrill voice, “Stay there you little bugger!” 
   That was it I could take no more, I was off onto the landing to spy for Granny and Grandpa’s return. Mama J came to join me on the landing and we sat there like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. By the way she’s definitely Tweedledum may I just add? Mama J kept running in to check where the spider was. Every time she cruised passed the bedroom door she made a sound like she was going to get squished by a pending sliding door attack. This kept making me look alarmingly at her, well even more alarmingly for a dog sat on a landing because I was sick of the circumstances I found myself in that evening.
At 12.30am, yes Granny and Grandpa were still missing in action at that late an hour, Mama J could take no more checking and back checking of the spider’s activities and decided it was high time my grandparents returned home. She text them the following message, “There’s a spider in my room. I wouldn’t mind some sleep tonight. When are you coming home?”
   Ten minutes later my spider catching Grandpa along with Granny returned home like naughty school children late home from their friends party and Mama J was allowed to go get some beauty sleep and I was given lots of cuddles for the trauma I’d endured whilst having to put up with a wuss like Mama J all night long. Next time Granny and Grandpa go out, I’m going to become a handbag pooch and go with them!


Folks I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m going to have to keep this edition brief as I’m very much flying solo editorial wise. Oh this could be fun, I could write all sorts and no one is going to pull me up for it. Do you think I should swear? Let the blogging games begin!
   Yes, Mama J has been struck down with Granny’s cold. Unlike Granny though who is a bit of a silly sausage struggler on type, sorry an absolute trooper, Mama J moans, groans, rings her bell for tea service (nothing new here then for Carson and Mrs Patmore aka Grandpa and Granny) and has to take two days off work just until her symptoms have slightly passed, okay more or less gone.
   I did along with the Vicks First Defence Nasal Spray try to warden off the evil cold spirits by sitting on Mama J’s chest while she was trying to have a coughing fit on Friday evening. I’ll be your female Kevin Costner Mama J and Bodyguard you from the sniffles! Come on cold virus if you think you’re hard enough! Oh I’m getting into this role play act now!
   Following two days off Mama J went back to work yesterday and midway through her shift her concerned good friend and colleague asked her if she was okay, she replied that she was fine and her pal said, “Are you sure because you look as white as a sheet?” Mama J were you trying your hand at an audition for the role of Casper The Friendly Ghost again? Remember how I tried to teach you how to, “Ooooohhh!”and “Aaaahhhh!” to maximum scary effect last time the role came up?
So it was my honorary birthday last Thursday. My family picked 15th June as it’s six months from the date they adopted me. I turned the grand old age of 8 years old, although this is of course debatable with me being a rescue pooch.
   Mama J and Granny popped of to the pet shop and brought me back lots of yummy treats for my lips and then my belly to devour. Mama J was under strict instructions that I didn’t need anymore new toys. Granny and Grandpa are such spoil sports at times. Whose day isn’t brightened up by a brand new squeaky animal shaped toy?
   Anyway they came home with the calming version of Pooch & Mutt treats, a doggie chocolate bar and some chews. I was allowed a chew straight away without even waiting for my birthday, 24 hours later and began to nibble it.
   My handsome doggie friend Watson’s Mum called in for a coffee and I greeted her normally but then was so taken with my chew that I continued to chomp away. Therefore my family have come up with the cunning plan of whenever we have visitors round, they are going to give me a chew to calm me and my over-enthusiastic barking down. A win, win situation all round I think! 
On the actual day of my birthday I was most upset to be left alone for a few hours while Mama J and Granny went to… See another dog! How dare they? The pooch in question is named Gracie and she’s a beautiful Boxer who was staying with a friend while her family were away on holiday.
   When they arrived…Without me! If I made friends easier I would’ve been allowed to go too, they said! Gracie was in the garden sunning herself until Mama J and Granny were safely sat down. On entering the house Gracie who at one year old was the size of a very leggy Shetland Pony then tried to climb on Mama J’s lap for a cuddle. Now I can do the lap jumping trick as a Yorkshire Terrier, build wise I’m fine but with Gracie being a Boxer, there were fears for Mama J’s safety, from yes, Mama J. I just jest, Mama J absolutely loved Gracie and thought she was so gorgeous. Granny keeps saying to me, “Elsie we met a lovely Boxer dog and she was so quiet, unlike you!” Harsh but yap, yap true! However I’m secure in the fact that I know my family love me, just the way I am. Oh I’ve clearly watched Bridget Jones too many times, quoting that line there!


Last Thursday morning I made an attempt to make my voice well and truly heard. Now I couldn’t register to vote in the General Election so I did a protest lie in instead! Yes, folks the rain was pitter pattering at the window and I cleverly managed to get myself under the duvet covers and refused to go downstairs when my Granny shouted of me for my morning walk. When she came upstairs to get me she couldn’t help but call Mama J in just to see what I had done. Here for all of you to behold is photographic evidence of me under the covers. See if you will my paw strategically placed just to give me an air of defiance but at the same time calm self assured confidence.
   Now for any other doggies wanting to take a stand and vote with their paws on a wet election day, I’m willing to do a crash course in how to get maximum coverage, duvet wise, anywhere in the country. This could be spread worldwide should uptake be high. We dogs must unite about against the lunacy of our owners and their madness of wanting to go out walking in the pouring rain! 

Mama J took her life into her own plastic glove covered hands yesterday when she had to volunteer to chop up and promote steak and ale pies. Her colleague enthusiastically managed to get herself out of pie gate by saying her nails were painted. Umm some excuse, sorry reason! Especially when beautiful, okay so they weren’t Armani or anything even remotely classed as designer, so let’s change that statement to practical gloves came as standard. 
   Off Mama J went to get a knife from the customer cafe, she donned the ever stylish white hat and gloves and was ready to cut up the pies. On putting the knife into the pies the perils of the morning all began! The gravy and ale mix came oozing out at a rate of knots and Mama J began to panic, she was perspiring from her brow! You see she thought herself and all the store’s customers were in gravy, sorry grave danger of drowning. To her this was a natural disaster akin with a volcano bubbling and starting to erupt towards a township. 
   Mama J realised she couldn’t curtail this pending doom on her own, so dashed to the phone and rang her bosses. They could obviously tell from the tone of her voice that Mama J feared for her life! At once they were by her side and aiding her in her quest to safely chop up the pies and get them into the paper cake holders provided. Mama J, well she was in full on panic mode by this point, so just stood there and watched on in pure horror as her two of her bosses tried cutting the pies but found their fingers were drowning too. Yes, really how many members of staff does it take to chop a set of pies? On realising this plan was deeply flawed, the Bear Grylls member of the group came up with the genius solution of, “I’ll get you a spoon!” 
   This saved Mama J, all the members of staff on duty and the store’s customers from mortal peril. Mama J along with her power tool, a spoon managed to successfully fill the cake holders with pieces of scrumptious warm pie. More to point the pies went down a treat with the eating public and Mama J, now I need to type this bit quietly as her bosses maybe reading this and will keep her in mind for future pie filled promotions, well she actually enjoyed herself in the end. Triumph over adversity! 
Friends of our family came over for lunch at our local pub last week. They bought with them their young son and a friend’s daughter who they were looking after for the day. 
   When they had finished their lunches four year Amelia and Mama J were playing count the dots that Amelia had drawn. On successfully counting Mama J cheered and Amelia looked at her, laughed and said, “You’re mad!” Mama J gave a thanking high five to Amelia for her “kind” compliment. This outstandingly intelligent little girl had worked Mama J out in a matter of hours. Well, I guess there is a fine line between madness and genius!


So for Grandpa and the other villagers involved, campaigning really got going with great gusto last week. A Parish Council meeting took place, that provided the public and one of the developers an opportunity to have their say. It turned into what Mrs Merton used to call on her show, a heated debate. There was then a local televised news report as well as the radio stations in the area interviewing my Grandpa. As a pure Grandpa’s girl I was beaming with pride at hearing him speak. At first I thought he was in the room talking with passion again about the proposed building work, when Granny was listening to the radio on Thursday morning whilst eating her porridge oats.
   After listening to Grandpa’s radio debut and yes he’s definitely in my top ten, Granny wandered up to join the televised protest group. She said the gaggle of people streaming towards the earmarked field for development was like a zombie cult trying to follow its leader. Okay maybe not the look the group were going for in terms of public relations. Think I better akin that with The Pied Piper of Hamelin instead.
   It was decided that I couldn’t go to the protest as I maybe arrested for breach of the peace. This was a wise move in the end as there were some of my doggie frenemies also there and I would’ve got myself into trouble for barking at them and starting a potential riot. Not really the coverage the group were trying to achieve, a Thursday morning dog fight and not of the Top Gun variety. I feel the need, the need for flying dogs everywhere! 
   I instead stayed at home with Mama J who couldn’t go as she just decided she was camera shy (oh so that’s why she’s always point the camera my direction) and oh yes had to wait in for her Debenhams delivery of more cotton t-shirts. 
   Mama J thought it would never be hot again and she could just get away with wearing long sleeved shirts. She then wondered why she’s been overheating these past couple of weeks. Bless what a red hot, literally at times, simpleton she is! Anyway she’s wearing a t-shirt today and yes folks it’s raining, so please join an orderly queue to assign blame in her direction for the down turn in the weather.

Once the filming was done everyone started appearing down our road going back to their houses. Just before Granny got back, I was sat in my usual vantage point on the sofa arm, like Simba surveying my kingdom. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a lady and man with a very large camera. Yes, this is it Hollywood have finally come a calling! Honestly you write a blog for just over a year and finally a film crew have found me and I didn’t have to move a muscle from the comfort of my own home. 
   With that Mama J and I spotted Granny coming down the adjoining driveway and Mama J went open the door to let her in. I realised this was my moment and sprung into action. I was like Matt Damon in the Bourne movies. I ran passed Mama J and then passed Granny straight towards the camera man and the lady who turned out to be Cathy Killick the reporter from BBC Look North. I danced around them showing off my best shimmying moves, well Hollywood does love someone whose multi-talented. Granny and Mama J apologised for my enthusiasm but they just seemed to lap up my work. If Diversity ever wanted a dog to join their dance troop, I’m available! Once I’d finished my “turn” and to the relief of Granny, who thought I may turn attack dog (well let’s face it not everyone likes the press) I was ushered back inside the house with the promise of sausages!
   Our house and our beautiful poppies were featured on BBC Look North but my star dancing debut sadly was not. These news editors clearly don’t know creative genius when they see it! Maybe they thought it was too much excitement for their viewers on a Thursday lunchtime and teatime show. 


“Cover your eyes and Elsie’s too!” Grandpa ushered, no shouted to Mama J last week while my family were enjoying an evening cup of tea. Now Mama J is 37 years old and has experienced the sights and sounds of drunken debauchery on her numerous nights out over her partying years. I am a former city Yorkshire Terrier, who is altogether just as street wise as Dizzee Rascal. I love going Bonkers and I sure would Dance Wiv Me, well Dizzee if he so asked me.
   Just what was going on outside of our living room window? I’ll keep you in suspense no longer… Two sparrows were trying their luck at procreation on our railings! It was like a scene from the Fifty Shades Of Grey movies and these two birds were using their flapping feathers to spank each other with. All this whilst one bird was bouncing around on the other birds back. Yes, our railings really had become their red room of pure passion.
   Grandpa was totally prudish to the birds moment of ecstasy and jumped up and down waving his arms around to shoo them way but Mama J just saw it as nature. She’s a Countryfile and Springwatch fan and was sure that both Matt Baker and Chris Packham would approve of this outburst of flying feathers. However Mr Packham would probably be able to explain it in much more scientific terms than to akin it to a bonker buster book and film but hey ho I’ve got a simple, mucky and poetic mind at times!
Now without completely lowering the tone of this blog, Mama J was getting out the shower and drying herself off, gently caressing her body with the towel, up and down her skin in circular waves whilst thinking longingly about Idris Elba. Okay I really am going to stop this smut now I promise. 
   It was last Wednesday morning and she was drying herself off and she coughed to clear her throat. With that there was a ding and then a loud yelp of, “Ouch!” that I heard from down the road, whilst Granny and I were out for our morning stroll. Yes, Mama J had pulled the bottom of her back.
   This sure is the most unconventional way to pull a muscle that I think I’ve ever heard of and I’m sure if Mama J did go to the Doctor’s they wouldn’t be able to help but chuckle. 
   So she has been wandering around like The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, only taking Calpol to ease her pain. Mama J will only take one Calpol every four hours as well as she doesn’t want to become addicted to children’s pain relief. Granny and Grandpa both suggested Deep Heat cream, however with the hot weather we’ve experienced into the weekend, Mama J felt that the pungent smell may put people off coming to her counter at work. It’s so nice that still in pain she’s concerned about the companies profits!
   Anyway her back does seem to be improving but she won’t be standing legs apart or thinking about Idris Elba next time she decides she has to clear her throat. 


In my family politics really is the order of the day. However we aren’t talking about the election fever that is gripping the British nation… Okay I mean every televisual news report trying to whip us all up into one mass of election frenzy. Everyone around these shores has practised voting on every issue there is over the last few years. I vote that we don’t need to vote again for another few years at least. Anyone else with me, please put a cross in the box below!
   We’re not even discussing Donald Trump’s latest political faux pas. He tweets a disaster almost every hour, it’s so difficult to keep up with his every public relations nightmare.  
My family’s political conversations (oh and there has been a lot of chatter coming from their mouths) have been dominated by the looming nature of 3000 houses engulfing our beautiful village and turning it from a rural idyl into a town. My Grandpa has started a protest group to try and garner local support against the build. I’m prepared for him to be laying in the middle of the road in front of a digger one day when we go out for a morning stroll. Or he could go sit in a tree just like Emily Bishop and her nephew Spider did in Coronation Street, in an attempt to save The Red Wreck. I will lend my support by barking along in protest and snarling at anyone with a local council clipboard. I’m a feisty Yorkshire Terrier, they won’t mess with me!
   With Grandpa’s group just getting into its stride Granny, Mama J and I are feeling a bit like a family of golfing widows. All we’ve heard all last week is the pitter patter of, not tiny feet but Grandpa’s fingers going ten to the dozen on his laptop’s keyboard. I try to give him a, “Stroke me now please Grandpa!” paw but I am being more than slightly passed over for the cause. Now I know how he must feel when on a Monday I’m in my blogging zone and only wanting disturbing for food and exercise. 
   Well, generating interest for a blog pawed by a Yorkshire Terrier is such tireless Monday work! Then there’s all my other social media engagements, like Mama J waving a camera in my face just when I’ve pressed the button (don’t worry not the nuclear button that world leaders have) and this has gone live for that week.
   Anyway I wish Grandpa and the other villagers involved in this campaign the best of luck in trying to change the minds of the local council’s planning department. I know Mama J and I like path walking but I also want to feel the grass between my paws and see the same idyllic country views that I and other doggies before me have had the pleasure of seeing for many years to come. 
On Thursday afternoon when Mama J got back from the hairdressers looking gorgeously quaffed, us three girls settled down to watch Sarah Beeny’s Channel 4 property programme How To Live Mortgage Free. 
   The first episode where barge living dominated the proceedings had Mama J on eBay looking for a run down watery abode that she had no clue how to do up! Now Mama J as I told you all last week can’t swim, so she better look into some life insurance just so I’m fully looked after, should she fall in the canal whilst trying to board her boat. When she went on the school barge she missed her footing and her right jeans leg ended up taking a dipping, so things aren’t looking too promising for a new water lifestyle.
   Anyway this weeks show was about a couple who did up a double decker bus which was interesting especially considering they both had mobility issues. However Mama J has decided to take umbrage with some of the ideas, as a lot of the people featured build their unconventional homes on family members land. This and all the possible building work in our village got too much for Mama J and she ranted, “I’ve had enough of folk! I’m off up Dale to live!” Granny was hysterical (I was worried at first as she was giggling so much I thought she was crying) and laughed all her make-up clean off her face at Mama J’s very Yorkshire dialect. Now I know I’m a Yorkshire lass too but we’ll be having sing songs of, “On Ikla Mooar baht ‘at!” next should anymore Yorkshire come out of Mama J’s mouth, along with stuffing our faces full of Yorkshire Puddings and washing them down with a mug of Yorkshire Tea. Now where’s my flat cap, I’m off up Dale too?


Well, I managed to get through my week closely monitoring Mama J’s every movement. It was a challenge but one I feel I rose to so very well. I’m such a formidable boss lady even if I do say so myself! If she breathed too heavily or sniffled into her handkerchief too much, I was there staring into her eyes to make sure she was up for the day and walking activities that lay ahead.

I had her out and about touring every village in our vicinity and chasing off other pooches that got in our way. We had the most beautiful weather for our “tour” which did turn into a Mini Cooper adventure in Primrose, Mama J’s set of wheels. I so enjoyed riding shot gun next to Mama J watching the countryside fly by and then getting my paws on unfamiliar turf for a stroll. Seen as these villages were local I didn’t need to play the role of navigator. However next time Granny and Grandpa go away, I live in hope that we may go further afield and I may get to use my map reading skills to there limits.

On one walk we went to such a pretty village that had a duck pond in the centre of it. Things were going swimmingly (pardon the pun) when I spotted a duck descending into the water. With that I was pulling hard on my lead to give chase. Mama J on the other hand didn’t share my enthusiasm for that sort of sporting activity. This was probably due to the fact that Mama J can’t swim. Where were a pair of armbands when she needed them? Thankfully for her I’m just a Yorkshire Terrier and not a German Shepherd and she’s more than powerful enough to pull herself and me to a minimum safe distance away from the waters edge. I swear as I was moved swiftly away from the pond I could hear the duck quacking, “Na! Na! Na! You won’t get me now!” Therefore I have decided that Mama J is going to learn to swim. I’ve already been online looking at lesson timetables and I’m just going gently persuade her to go along for a splash. So next time my little ducky pal you, Mama J and I are going to have some proper watery fun!
On Tuesday Mama J had to show willing and go to work for the afternoon. Well, they do pay her and this leads to the me living the lavish lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to, so I fully support her going behind her shop counter. Whilst Mama J was earning her crust, I was living the high life! I got to spend a lovely afternoon with my handsome boy Watson and his equally fabulous Mum on a play date at his house.
   I had the best time laid on Watson’s Mum’s lap watching the beautiful and talented Keeley Hawes in The Durrells. I don’t know whether this made Watson a bit jealous as he’s not allowed on the sofa or on people’s laps but I did keep a look out for squirrels whilst I was up there so Watson could chill out. I must remember not to bark out The Durrells plot line though when Granny has a catch up session later this week, I’ll be getting a large case of déjà vu when that comes on the telly! Anyway I give massive thanks to Watson and his wonderful family for their kindness and for welcoming me into their lovely home. It was a real treat.
As well as walking me a record three times a day. See I said to you all I’d be a hard task master and I certainly wasn’t lying. I also witnessed Mama J doing other strenuous activities. No, it wasn’t anything smutty, you mucky minded lot! She CLEANED the bathrooms, HOOVERED the carpets and WASHED and IRONED clothes!  All this was done under my watchful and indeed amazed eye. I earned myself a few more treats for my brilliant supervisory role in all of this when Granny and Grandpa came home to an extremely tidy house indeed. They needed a lie down to get over the shock!

When Mama J got home from work on Friday we were told tales of Granny and Grandpa’s Majorcan holiday. They went to visit Grandpa’s Step-Mum, Sue and her gorgeous Papillon dog, Bruma. Now it was said that Bruma rivalled me on the barking at other dogs scale. However I’m pleased to announce baring an altercation on a street corner that my crown is firmly still in tact!
   I’m sure if Bruma and I ever crossed paths and came wet black nose to wet black nose that there would be a healthy rivalry akin to boxing’s Anthony Joshua and Wladimir Klitschko’s.
However seen as Bruma is as Peggy Mitchell used to say, “Family!” I’m sure we’d be respectful and in the end loving towards each other. First there was the Eastenders Mitchell’s, then the Emmerdale Dingle’s and now the Chelton dogs! I’m off the get myself a passport and a plane ticket to Palma airport, Bruma and I are going to have some fun terrorising her manor together!