CASUALTY

This is so exciting now I’ve worked out how to crank up Mama J’s (that is Joolsy to Marble and fans of this blog I am lead to believe) Apple Mac laptop. Yes, folks I Elsie Bear Chelton, Queen Diva of the Yorkshire Terrier World am taking over Marble’s Doing A Comedy Turn for one week and one week only. He’s out having a few gin and tonic’s this morning! (“Jesus is he some sort of alcoholic or something?” I hear you cry.) No, please don’t worry when I say G&T’s, I don’t mean the type that Granny has after a hard evening walking Marble and I. Going through the trials and tribulations of who I like and don’t like dog wise in the village. Okay so it’s a short list of who I do like as I was taught in the mean city streets when I was a gangster bitch to trust no one. So even when I now meet “friendly” dogs they get confused with in my mind with being behind enemy lines. Marble is at the vets this morning on not Gordon’s or Bombay Sapphire gin but their very own special brew that I was also meant to be given to me this morning too, more on that in a minute. Marble is having a catheter up his Jimmy Roger. Yes, that is indeed cockney rhyming slang that Lord Sugar and my favourite Queen Vic landlady of all time Peggy (get out of my puuuubbb!) Mitchell would understand. No, it isn’t rhyming unfortunately for Jammy Dodger, the scrumptious biscuits that a Yorkshire lady like myself loves with a morning brew. To put it more delicately Marble’s having his water works investigated this morning to see why he keeps peeing a lot (particularly in the vicinity of the house.. Well, inside the house, I was trying to spare his blushes there.) Paws crossed he’ll have more information for you guys next week and won’t still be grabbing his crotch area a la Michael Jackson when he went through his, “Bad. I’m bad, you know it!” phase.
Now as Marble informed you all last week Mama J was in charge of us and he’s told me to tell you that we are still alive and didn’t get food poisoning from any waywardly cooked sausage rolls. To be fair to my Mama J she was only fourteen years old at the time and although Mary Berry was probably making cookery programmes I believe back then they maybe weren’t as prevalent in everyone’s mind as The Great British Bake Off is today. However now Mary Berry is Mama J’s fashion icon and she hangs off her every word and stylishly floral jacket she wears. Mama J did a sterling job looking after us. She gave Marble and I many a cuddle over the week and coped with me feeling a little shaky mid-week and then my medical emergency on Friday morning from which I’m still feeling sore from now. After my 6.00am breakfast (due to Marble wanting to say a huge great big, “HELLO!”) Mama J noticed that my left cheek was looking slightly puffy and by the time she had finished beautifying herself this looked like I was trying to be a half former Hollywood starlet trying to recapture her youth by injecting chemicals into her cheek to make them fuller. I say half as my other cheek looked like it was ageing gracefully! Mama J managed to get me in at the vets at lunchtime for them to have a look. Going to the vets was quite exciting as last time I got near Mama J’s car it was metaphorically speaking and in paint form, joyriding around the local area with Marble at the helm of the steering wheel. This time Mama J was in control of the driving but I got to ride up front with her looking out the side windows and windscreen as every blade of grass blew by. By the time I got to the vets I was in a mood for no messing. I unfortunately gave the new vet a slightly nasty welcome to the practice when he tried to have a look in my mouth. Not friendly I know but I was in discomfort and as i’ve learned attack is the best form of defence! Please don’t worry all his fingers were left in tact when we left the practice, as I was minus seven teeth and counting by this point so along with my glamorous under-shot jawline I could do no real lasting Jaws or Dracula style damage. Mind you I wouldn’t even let Mama J wipe my eyes clean from gunk earlier that morning and I have no reason to fear her. The vet said I would have to go back this morning to be sedated along with Marble who was having his procedure done but events took on a quicker turn when Granny and Granddad returned from drinking their San Miguel’s in Spain. My cheek by this point looked again like I’d been the full twelve rounds with a heavy weight boxing champion. Granddad got the phone immediately as they opened Saturday morning and by 12.00pm I too was on the same gin that Marble is on right now. When the vet thoroughly investigated my pearly whites with her magic wand, okay probe she found that although they looked like I’d used enough doggy Colgate toothpaste one of them was rotten to the core and this was why I was looking like half the bride of Frankenstein. After obtaining permission from Granddad she extracted the poorly tooth, shaved the fur from my cheek and drilled a hole in my face to let the puss drain out. Ouch the drama and oh the pain I endured. When she rang she explained this was the case as she didn’t want my family thinking I’d been cast in the latest Quentin Tarrentino movie and had come across Uma Thurman in her yellow jumpsuit and Samurai sword whilst in the vets surgery. Mama J thanked the vet and told her she was a super star. Now I had other less complimentary names I could have called her at the time than a super star! Although today I feel on top of the world again so will thank her in my own doggy way when I go for my check-up this afternoon and we bring a slightly hung over Marble home to recover from his procedure. I know the feeling fella honest. Right well I better stop my now free flowing and now neatly manicured by the concrete pavement paws and go back to my usual stance or should that be sitting position of barking out the window and at anything or anyone that moves. Be it man, woman, dog or indeed sparrow feeding off our bird table in the front garden. Thank you for reading this today and I promise normal Marble kind of writing service will resume next week. Lastly I just wonder if Marble instead of giving me the evils will respond to the pings of the monitors by barking when Mama J is watching Casualty and Holby City now he’s had his medical procedure? Mama J and the rest of my family fear he might!




  

BALLS... THAT IS RUGBY & BALLSY WOMEN!




So Joolsy, Elsie and I have empty nest syndrome. “What another mumbo jumbo syndrome that has been invented by the self help glitterati?” I hear you cry. Ma and Pa Chelton have left us to fend for ourselves. Everyone please start crying with us now otherwise I’ll set mean and feisty Elsie on you to gain the full on sympathy effect for us all. What wait it’s only for a few days? I don’t think it was really necessary for Joolsy to prepare for their departure by finding self help tomb after self help tomb on Amazon and then downloading them pronto to her Kindle when they initially booked their trip on lastminute.com all those weeks ago. She could’ve however downloaded a cook book as this young lady once infamously put sausage rolls in a microwave! I swear Dad’s threat of shaming her on her wedding day with this ever so tall tale is putting her off getting a man! Now I’m just a mere mortal of a Cocker Spaniel but even I’ve taken enough notes from The Great British Bake Off to know this isn’t a savvy move. Yes, folks if you keep the microwave going for more than five minutes, “Trying to make them a golden brown colour on top” black steam does come streaming out of the sides of the microwave. What have Elsie and I let ourselves in for? Hopefully our own doggy dinners for a start off and we will leave the chargrilled and black in the middle sausage rolls for Joolsy to have for her tea. The most excitement we are going to get and we’ve been told this by Joolsy isn’t wild debauchery, oh no my back yard foam partying days are well and truly over now. No, the most we can expect in terms of fun is the live hour long episode of Coronation Street on Wednesday night. Come on Joolsy, I think your friend was right when he said you were boring these days as you said you’d rather watch the opening episode of Strictly Come Dancing rather than go partying. Sorry better watch my mouth and my loose keyboard tapping paws here as we won’t be getting a whiff of our dinners. Joolsy is dead excited about Corrie, she was practically giddy when This Morning were doing a preview session the other day with some of the cast. You know what they say about simple things and simple minds? As well as Coronation Street to get jolly about any rugby fan worth their salt will know that the World Cup kicked off in style at the weekend. We were all cheering England on in their extremely tense opener. It was like watching the national football team and even I was having a nibble on my claws towards the end of the first half when Fiji looked like they were coming a little more into the game. Anyway England battled through and won that game, just the tiny matter of Australia to come in a few games time. Oh dear and we can’t rely on Jonny Wilkinson’s wonderful kicking abilities anymore either. I’m feeling tense in the tummy over that one. Joolsy’s warned me she’ll turn the rugby off if I get too tense in the tummy/the bladder though as we don’t anymore accidents like last week. I’ll fill you in properly in a minute, although I will say this I’m glad I wasn’t modelling the prototype for my new Pets At Home range of Dog Gandy white pants at the time! Back to the rugby as going to try and spare my blushes for a second or two longer. The Chelton household found an unlikely affinity with the Japanese rugby team on Saturday evening when they beat the Springboks. Its safe to say we were turning Japanese, turning Japanese, I really think so! Oh Lord above I feel like I’ve just been transported to a tacky sorry meant stylish and sophisticated there Tokyo karaoke bar for a second there. Dad was cheering them on and even kept jumping up and down from the table to check the score. I on the other paw stayed at the table as it was Mama’s Lasagne which is a favourite with Joolsy and I and now Elie has joined in and thrown her vocal appreciation into the mix. Joosly said after the game that it was like Mr Miyagi from the original and in my humble opinion the best Karate Kid movie (sorry Jaden Smith but your version was a poor remake even if you could get your leg into full on kick mode on The Graham Norton Show months after shooting had ended) had taught the Japanese team to wax on, wax off all over the South African defence. Too true!

Sorry to hear the sad news of Jackie Collins’s death at the weekend. Joolsy was watching her interviewed on Loose Women (if ever there was a show to go on with her style of literature it was this) only days before her death and she looked fabulously glamorous as ever. Take it from a dog with grooming in his heart it isn’t easy to look that good when you are advancing in years but Jackie always made it look so effortless. She was a trailblazer for women in terms of writing feisty strong female leads and is an inspiration in her humorous outlook for this blog I’m pawing today. She paved the way for women to explore a different and more colourful shall I say style of writing. She bought a marvellous “bit of glamorous midnight blue” style of writing compared to the sunflower yellow style my writing brings with hopefully a full on cheery disposition that brightens up your Monday afternoons. Also I believe she will no doubt have been an inspiration for a bit of Grey (Christian that is) and red (room that is) along her years of success. Joolsy’s telling me what to write here as the Fifty Shades trilogy are a little too much for my delicate tear drop Spaniel eyes to bare. Anyway no matter what part of the writing rainbow you come from, Jackie did it in her own unique style. I can’t believe she wrote her books long hand though. Don’t think I’m talented enough at holding a pen to do it that way so I’ll stick with Joolsy’s Apple Mac.

Now on to an embarrassing moment in my week and the reason I maybe adding a washing powder to my advertising portfolio in due course. As long as I don’t have to run around the neighbours houses coming out with a catchphrase like, “Watch out you beggars it’s Cheggers!” I’m reluctantly in. Yes, doggy had not one but two accidents last week. First there was the waterfall coming out of my backside (sorry if you are eating a curry and reading this). It was like Hardraw Force the day Joolsy went with her primary school party way back in the day and her over zealous teacher got the class to make a circle in the water and near the falls and, “Feel the force!” I didn’t like the force coming out of my bum anymore than Dad liked the force of the waterfall all those years ago through his fearful hand covered eyes. Ah the days before risk assessments were a fun sight to behold. Then I had another accident on Friday lunchtime when I decided to spray smelly yellow water all over the kitchen floor. So guess where I’m going when Mum and Dad get back from their trip to Espana, the vets, yippeeeeee! They are going to do some more in-depth tests to see if they can get to the bottom (pardon the pun there) of it all. Right folks off to chill out before the dog walker kindly takes Elsie and I out for our evening stroll.

















ME, DAVID GANDY OF THE DOG WORLD!

So since I last put paw to keyboard my portrait has had a lot of positive comments. Not quite from the art fraternity but from Joolsy’s “friends”on Facebook. Oh well to coin an Asda advertising slogan, “Every little helps!” What…. That’s a Tesco phrase and they’re suing me now too as well as Madonna? Jesus I’ll have no chicken or hypoallergenic treats left if I can’t type the politically correct thing or can’t get the right telly supermarket advertising campaign. Do hope I don’t have to go on The Chase ever and get asked about television marketing, I’d be stuffed. Dad is still coming up with fantastic painting ideas. He’s deciding whether to stick with paintings of Elsie and I in various locations or have different dogs or even different animals added to the fray. If he does paint Elsie and I again then I can’t wait to go to Paris and wear a beret and a stripy jumper (cliche I know but the French do chic extremely well and I am nothing if not chic). Think Elsie and I should insist that we get pet passports and actually go to get the image just so rather than it being a metaphorical piece of art work, it might do better sales wise on eBay a cheeky me thinks. Mind you the French can be quite volatile so I dread to think what their dogs are like, reckon Elsie would meet her match in barking and feisty terms out there.

Joolsy is trying to make me into a social media super star with all this blogging business. She’s cracking the whip a little bit too much for this dogs liking. Elsie and I are having our photos snapped on an almost daily basis. We are like the dogs world equivalent of Cara Delevingne and David Gandy. Cara got a little snippy snappy with the presenters of the American version of Good morning Britain recently so she’s a fabulous comparison to my “confident” pal Elsie. It goes without saying that I’m compared to David Gandy as we are both two extremely handsome and debonair gents. Now I know he has an underwear collection with Marks and Spencer’s (Joolsy had the video of him in his pants on repeat as it, “Perked her up for the day ahead!”) and for the right price I would be more than happy to model in some white Y-Fronts if Pets At Home were to want to design a range, now there’s a challenge for their creative team. Joolsy’s told me that I have to be funny every Monday afternoon when she’s watched This Morning and Loose Women on the TV so I can write this blog. The pressure, I mean inspiration and sarcasm does take a little work you know. I’m a Cocker Spaniel not a performing seal or the next doggy contestant to follow Pudsey or Matisse onto Britain’s Got Talent. Joolsy said she wouldn’t have me go on there though now anyway even if she found I did have a modicum of talent as the Chelton family have gone off Simon Cowell’s shows. The X Factor has taken such a downward turn in our house that we watched Antiques Roadshow last night and loony Wolverine lookalike and biking legend Guy Martin going around India the night before. Mum says X Factor has gone a bit manic and contrived for her. Oh everyone’s a television critic these days!

My infection has cleared up completely now so no more antibiotics for me, hooray! However my wee is still diluted like a Robinson’s squash that’s ready for next years Wimbledon so in a few weeks I have to do another urine sample and see from there how everything is settling down, the joys! Elsie is on full on play mood now she’s had her abscessed teeth out to my greatest displeasure. She’s a proper nut job and keeps trying to get me to chase her. When I tell her in my preferred gentlemanly manner she just won’t take the hint until I get a little more forceful and grumble at her like Vada’s breathing in Star Wars (all deep, meaningful and very much from the dark side). Mind you speaking of play and Elsie, when I got up last Wednesday morning Mum and Joolsy were saying what a little Miss Mischief Elsie had been during the night. I slept through it all I’m pleased to say otherwise there would have been another reason for me to grump and grumble. Infant it would have been let’s get ready to grumble or grumble in the village had she woken me up. What had happened was that Elsie had woken Joolsy up licking her lips which can mean she could have a funny turn (not like the one I’m having now either) so Joolsy was soothing her and talking to her. Mum heard the per-lava and went to investigate (only half the house up already this girl’s doing well). This was at just before 2.00am may I add? Elsie being a bit of a diva liked the fuss and attention (well who can blame her I guess, especially as she is an A star lapdog). Once Mum had settled her (or so she thought) and came back to bed, Elsie decided that she wanted more attention and started prancing and dancing around Joolsy’s room. This performance went on for a further half an hour until Joolsy decided to open her door. At which point Elsie ran faster than Usain Bolt around the landing to Mum and Dad’s room and threw herself on their bed, shuffled herself around until she was comfy and then went to sleep until it was morning. Bloody minx!

Right well I’m off for my evening stroll now and I’m pleased to say that this Monday I don’t smell like a girl dog from the Refreshers (remember them folks) shampoo that they washed me with at the grooming salon last week. Well with my David Gandy (of the dog world) good looks I guess I could be the face of a dog shampoo too. Another great idea for Pets At Home to go with my underwear campaign. What a two pronged marketing attack I’ve come up with there! 














  






HAVING A BUZZING TIME!

Trumpet fanfare if you please people. Today is the art worlds equivalent of the Star Wars promo video. Yes, Dad has finished his painting and we (that is myself, Elsie and Cedric RIP) are drying out metaphorically speaking of course as I type. Although it does look like a rain shower maybe due later this afternoon so we could be drying out literally if that is the case. So here we go the great unveiling of The Joyriding Dogs…



Joolsy is so pleased with the results and even if I do say so myself am pretty darn impressed with my portrait. The likeness is uncanny. Mummy texted a photo of the picture to friends and family and one of her friends was so impressed too that she has said she’d pay for a painting of her two dogs done in a similar vain. Dad was talking to Joolsy about testing the waters and doing some to sell on eBay. What joy have we started? Paws crossed Elsie and I could be in for more dog treats for inspiring Dad if the sales coming rolling in.

We’ve had drama all round in the Chelton animal kingdom again. Remember last time how we were all on left side face watch to do with Elsie’s cheek? The very next day after I pawed that blog (you couldn’t write it could you) it flared up again and she was put on more antibiotics until she could go in eight days later and have the badly inflamed abscessed teeth removed. Her cheek looked like she’d slipped when applying her eyeliner and it had ended up on her cheek. Elsie went in the other Thursday to have the offending teeth taken out. When they got her under the anaesthetic they found another wobbly tooth at the bottom of her jaw so removed that one too just to be on the safe side. Also she a slight touch of kennel cough (we don’t know how as she doesn’t like other dogs apart from me) which was also treated. I had a lovely day while she was out chilling out with my Mum and Joolsy until they bought what seemed like a half cut Elsie back from the vets to have rest and recuperation or R&R as the military personnel put it. Elsie was resting well until Sunday lunchtime when she started being sick which lasted on and off for a few times over the next few days. The vets (our favourite number in phone at the moment) was rang again and Elsie was taken off her anti-inflammatory medication as she’d obviously had a bad reaction to it. Jesus only Elsie could get so lucky in life. Although when Mum used Auntie Google this was more common than we first thought. Elsie was put on a course of Zantac (yes the stuff you can probably get more cheaply at your local chemist than our veterinary practice) to cool her raw and inflamed tummy down. I’m pleased to say this has done the trick and Elsie is back on 100% tip top form once more. Although the emergency towels (Peter Kay has emergency chairs, we have emergency beige ex-caravan towels) are still strategically placed around the house just incase darling Elsie has another sick turn. The towels followed Elsie around like Madonna’s cape, yes we all nearly did trip over them too…. What wait a minute Madonna’s suing me for making a bad cape joke. Tell her she can have my new biscuits treats and my really old ragged rope but that’s all I have to offer the Queen of Pop I’m afraid, sorry Madge. 
I am doing well too. The vet put me on another course of antibiotics for my urine infection and paws crossed this should have cleared up altogether when Mum takes another sample into the vets in a few days time.

The last bit of drama and this was on a fairly epic scale for me and Mum happened the other Friday on our evening walk. We were strolling along when I managed to uncover a wasps/hornets nest as we walked down the lane. We didn’t ask exactly what they were as we were too busy getting attacked. Although we may send an email description to Springwatch’s Chris Packham for analysis in due course. Mum was stung on her finger first and screamed a loud, “Ouch!” Then she looked around at me and I was covered in them. They were all over my face and body. I know I’ve done the I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here diet of chicken and rice but expecting me to do this sort of bush tucker trial is a bit much for a Cocker Spaniel and his fearless Mum to bear. Also we didn’t have Dr Bob on hand to make sure we were safe to proceed with the trial. Anyway I was rolling around the ground with buzzing ringing in my ears and stinging around my nose area. I don’t mind saying here that I was crying like a baby (in a manly way of course as have my street credibility to protect) as Mum turned Xena Warrior Princess (minus Lucy Lawless’s wonderful costume) and picked up a branch and started hitting them off me. When I say hit please don’t call the authorities as I know she was doing this in a loving way. Elsie watched on in pure horror as coming from the mean inner city streets she had never seen such crazy badass wild life making its move before. Once Mum had managed to get most of them off me we walked back up the road like Josh Hartnett in the final scenes of Black Hawk Down. “Leave no man behind!” it says on the cover of that films DVD and this was a case of leave no dog behind only my lead which was still covered in wasps from their frenzied attack. Once were home safely and all the wasps had been removed from my body following a thorough fur search where Dad turned equivalent of an airport scanner machine with his eyes literally on heat, guess what happened next. Yes, Mum rang the vets again just to get some advice on stings just incase I went into anaphylactic shock. They just said to give me an antihistamine and keep an eye on me. Mum did this and took one herself as she acquired about six stings on her hands and arms saving me from the nutty wasps. My hero!

Right that’s enough tales for today I’m off to chill out now after my morning out been preened to perfection at the doggy groomers. Ah it’s a hard life I lead.