Well, Elsie’s had quite a week from when I last wrote. Joolsy got into her head last Thursday that Elsie’s hair was looking a little more Shirley Carter from Eastenders than she liked. When we got Elsie the family did have a Mrs Merton style heated debate on whether to call her Shirley as the resemblance with the BBC soap stars hair is uncanny but they decided against the idea as Elsie had already had one name change through her move here and they didn’t want her to wonder not only where she was but who she was, a dog with an identity crisis is never a good idea! Now when Joolsy gets an idea in her mind she’s like a bear with a sore head until the problem is solved. The bear being Elsie Bear this time round and her wild wild hair in particular. Joolsy was going to call the groomers where I have my hair styled however Mum was not too pleased with this bright or should that be crazy idea as Elsie has bad manners around other dogs. She’s had therapy for this condition (oh dear) which has improved things mildly. (I just keep my distance in a nearby field when she gets the urge to carry on… barking! What a film that would have made in the Carry On saga, Elsie would’ve been the star of that film showing for sure!) Now being in a confined space with other dogs next to her waiting for their cut & blow dries maybe taking things a paw step too far. Mum deemed this to be the case so instead her and Joolsy searched the Internet for, “How to cut a Yorkshire Terriers hair,” and came up with a few You tube videos for their entertainment and for dog grooming skills. Steve McDonald recently tried the You Tube technique when trying to tile the toilet wall in Coronation Street's famous Rovers Return’s toilets. Were we in for a similar humorous disaster here? One of the tricks of the trade was thinning scissors (oh we are getting technical now!) which of course they decided they must hunt down like a lion hunts down its prey and Boots The Chemist was to be their African plain! Mum and Joolsy had been out for a few hours that morning in search of another type of prey, a black and white checked skirt that mine and Joolsy’s Nana and Elsie’s Great Granny Barbara had seen (or maybe imagined) in Marks and Spencer's whilst shopping with her friend earlier in the week. They hunted high and low for said skirt to no avail but instead came back to Joolsy’s great delight with a chicken pie for tea. This was more of a higher standard with Joolsy than Dad’s now infamous pie purchase from the children’s ready meal section in a different store a few weeks prior. Back to the scissor search now. They hot footed it over to Boots and firstly found male beard trimming scissors mixed in with the tweezers and artificial nails. Oh no they thought Elsie’s not going to be getting Joolsy’s (not Elsie’s) dream hair cut after all. Then Joolsy had a thought that thinning scissors might be with the hair accessories such as bobbles and grips and sure enough there were as if to be sparkling (in Joolsy’s mind anyway) in gold dust, thinning scissors. Mum and Joolsy hot footed back from Boots in record time and after our walk the hair cutting entertainment began! Towels were put on the table and Elsie was lifted on and held by Dad like a show dog at Crufts while Mum began shaving Elsie with the clippers as suggested in the third video she and Joolsy had found, these two were now experts don’t you know? Various attachments were swapped around to get the correct gradient for Elsie’s back hair but even with the blade totally exposed they weren’t making any head way whatsoever on Elsie’s flighty fur. I imagined them trying to cut my thick hair, it would be like cutting Sherwood Forest with paper scissors. Was it a case of back to Boots for some more clippers? Was it heck! No Mum just started hacking into poor Elsie’s fur like a Lumber Jack chopping his wooden wares. She started with her newly acquired thinning scissors but when they were only taking slivers off Elsie’s hair she reverted to type, or should that be ordinary hairdressing scissors to finish the job. I looked on in shear horror as this wasn’t the treatment I get when I go to the groomers. Mind you if your only point of reference and experience is an eight minute video, followed by a twelve and a half minute video followed lastly by a twenty five minute video there’s no wonder it all looked a little bit DIY (do it yourself) or should that be DIM (do it Mum) from where I was standing and that was in the hall way just incase Mum decided I needed a little trim too! An hour and a half later (minus a few post shower snips here and there) and Elsie was finished. Dad thought Mum encouraged by an excitable Joolsy had gone too far this time with her exuberant cutting technique especially with regard to Elsie’s now no existent mane which once finished off her crown and glory! Oh well it will grow they all agreed!
Another highlight of Elsie’s week was her midnight (literally here no exaggerations in this case) parties in Joolsy’s bedroom. On three consecutive occasions last week Elsie had a very private party indeed as she was the only one attending everyone else in the house was just reluctantly put on the guest list whether they liked it or not. Now there was no music (other than Elsie’s dulcet tones whining at Joolsy’s bedroom door to be let out) and no alcopops (what sort of a party does she call that?) but Elsie danced around Joolsy’s bedroom wanting to run freely to visit her Granny and Granddad in the room the other side of the landing! The first night Joolsy was very kind and Disney sweetly heard talking to Elsie and putting her back on the bed several times and trying to sooth her. The second night after much deliberation and coordination between Joolsy and Mum and Dad it was decided that Joolsy would not turn her light on and coo at Elsie but would firmly tell her to get back on the bed and lie down quietly. Did this work? Did it chuff! When Joolsy decided to turn the light on (she knows against protocol) and look Elsie in the eye, Elsie ran over to Joolsy’s bed and put up her paw. Queen Of Manipulation at play or what? Mum again came in to see what was occurring and again Elsie seized the day and the opportunity and skipped around the landing tail wagging to see her Granddad. Cheeky! Now on the third night, oh there’s a habit developing here! Joolsy just threw the light on and sternly said, “Elsie on the bed now!” Elsie tried the paw trick again but Joolsy was battle hardened to her cuteness by now (well almost) and Elsie realising this technique had failed to win Joolsy around this time jumped back on the bed and went to sleep. Phew, result! Another thing keeping Joolsy awake this last week has been the wind. Us brits do like to talk about the weather don’t we? Now this wind that would have just been named either Wind or Gales in days gone by now has a new American style storm name, Abigail. First it was McDonald’s from over the pond now storm naming whatever next I ask you? Abigail has been causing Joolsy all manner of problems in the bedroom on a night. No Joolsy isn’t some Royal Marine recruit on a training exercise on the Brecon Beacon’s. Far from it as Joolsy struggled the other week walking up a hill in town. Joolsy and her lovely friend went for lunch and as her friend doesn’t like paying the astronomical town centre parking fees (who can blame her! There’s even a campaign in place with regard to the parking fees which Elsie and I may be joining, more banners are been designed as I type.) they decided to walk a little way to the cafe. This cafe however was closed for some reason. Joolsy’s friend suggested another cafe “just up the road”. They trounced up the road further and further with Joolsy stopping anywhere that had lights on, even if it was an office building they may serve sandwiches and a brew she thought. Joolsy’s pal was worried at one point saying, “Are you okay? You aren’t going to pass out on me are you?” Joolsy assured her friend she was fine and they continued on to complete now what was a circuit from where they had parked the car. Joolsy celebrated her mammoth trek with a panini and a smoothie and we sadly haven’t heard the end of it since she got back. Anyone would think she’d been up Mount Everest the way she’s been carrying on. Now Joolsy did enquire as to the whereabouts of her step machine and exercise bike but on being told by Mum that they were in the loft that has completed her quest for a fit body for this month. If Joolsy managed to get into the loft I fear that would be the last exercise she’d ever do as she wouldn’t be able to get back down the ladder without the fire brigade in attendance. Ah now there’s somewhere else for Joolsy to try and get stuck and indeed try and get rescued like a damsel in distress from. So Joolsy has been kept awake by the wind flapping her ensuite’s (how posh is Joolsy?) air vent loudly all night. Joolsy is outside with some gaffer tape as I type! She keeps me awake too every time it clangs with her version of Jessie J’s Bang Bang. Although Joolsy changes the chorus to Boom Boom as she thinks it sounds better as it rhymes with “into the room”. Artistically I think that Jessie J may not be too happy about Joolsy’s changes to her hit song so we better hope she doesn’t read this post today!  
I have some exciting news to finish with. Erica Sturla the Artist that Joolsy commissioned to immortalise us Chelton’s in polymer clay has sent over a photo for Joolsy’s approval yesterday. It’s fantastic and Joolsy more than approved of it, she loved it! I’ll put a picture of us in all our glory once the fully framed version has been couriered across, hopefully in time for next weeks post. 

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