My bum is like the Trevi Fountain again! Sorry if you are indulging in your dinner whilst reading this, I must think on next time I post as to timings of the day and night. Mind you when isn’t a good time to eat? I can’t think of one! Thought I’d come up with a punchy opening line about my past week and that sadly was the first thing that sprung to mind. We have been on several walks and I’ve exploded all over the pavement! It is coming out of the other end to Lord Grantham’s Downton explosion last year and a slightly different shade of yuckiness but still not a pleasant experience for me, or indeed Mum and Dad. I’m surprised Mum hasn’t started carrying a packet of Kleenex (other brands are available) tissues to do her full on motherly duties and clean up after my browning of the concrete “sessions”. This has happened too many times now for no good Vindaloo reasons and sadly I not beefing up in my usual manner even though I tried a high protein diet over Christmas (well a few days of that then the explosions began again) then I have been back on my original food since then but we still have bombs not chock’s away. So on Thursday Mum and I trundled off to the Vets for a chat, a thorough investigation/examination, repeat blood tests followed lastly by yummy biscuits for my good behaviour. It was the Vet who gave Elsie her health check and booster jab that I saw and she being an absolute diva turned her nose up at the biscuits. I on the other paw know exactly where the barrel containing the offending items is kept and stared sweetly at it then back at the Vet until he gave me three biscuits. That’s how you play the game Elsie. You may have learned how to steal a finger of Fudge wrapper and all (don’t worry Dad was on it like a car bonnet and removed the fudge unharmed from Elsie’s jaws) but you haven’t quite learned to follow my lead in gaining the full positive experience at the veterinary practice. You are a sharp tool though, you’ll cotton on soon for sure. We are just waiting for the Vet to call us back as he left a message on the answer machine earlier this morning when Mum and Joolsy were out having coffee with a friend. I thought about answering the phone but thought I might be best leaving it to Mum as I’m not interested if it doesn’t involve the words walk, go get your rope, treat or dinner. If like the last time two times the blood tests come back showing up nothing then Mum’s going to ask them to do further tests until we get to the bottom (pardon the pun) of the situation. Ah I thought I was a Cocker Spaniel not a Guinea Pig!
Remember me telling of Joolsy’s filling antics at the Dentist last summer? Well, to counteract that and score polishing browning points when she goes for her next six monthly check up, Joolsy thought she’d buy an electric toothbrush. She logged onto her computer to research electric toothbrushes and read a few reviews and selected the “best’ one which being a glamorous girlie was the most expensive one, of course no surprises there then. Actually going to the Dentist for a weekly polish like a lady can go to the hair salon for a weekly blow dry would’ve been less money than the brush Joolsy chose. Having said that Joolsy was savvy and got the brush half price at £112 due to her research and cash back deals! Martin Lewis/Jasmine Birtles would be proud! The toothbrush was scheduled to arrive today but to Joolsy’s amazement Boots delivered it first thing on Friday morning. Joolsy was pleased about this but also a little upset as she always enjoys her window squats from the sofa on seeing a white van man drive by when she’s expecting a call (not a nature call, though she has them every five minutes on a morning due to her water tablets. What a pair we are!) So Friday night arrived and we could all hear buzzing coming from Joolsy’s ensuite. We didn’t hear it followed by screaming from Joolsy so it must be the new toothbrush in action and not a swarm of bees. Phew Mum and I had enough of them last autumn down the lane on one of our less enjoyable evening strolls. Two minutes later Joolsy emerged from her bathroom licking her teeth in a funny manner. This act went on over the weekend with the look on her face getting more and more pensive every time she finished her bi-daily brushing ritual. Then over dinner on Sunday night Joolsy enquired, “Mum, can we stop at Boots tomorrow? My mouth is getting more and more minging by the second and if I don’t get a manual toothbrush there’s going to be fluff and food festering between my teeth!” Oh what a vision to behold. I almost wanted along with Elsie in tow to stop them leaving the house this morning just to see the spectacle that was going to be growing in Joolsy’s mouth! Harsh I know but we could have called it a Heston Blumenthal food tech/science experiment to work around the rudeness of the situation. Anyway after cuddling us two on their arrival, Joolsy ran like Usain Bolt up the stairs, kissed her manual toothbrush (well they do say you can fall in love with animate objects. Shall I book the local church and buy a hat Joolsy?) and started scrubbing her teeth. This time she came out of the bathroom smiling and uttering something along the lines of, “Oh beautiful Oral-B I will never desert you again!”