So this morning I have made a new and very distracting “friend” in the form of a kitten. Yes, those immortal words from Tweetie Pie were on my lips first thing, “I thought I saw a pussy cat creeping up on me. I did. I did see a pussy cat!” When Grandpa opened the door for us to go out for our morning stroll there was the small Tortoise Shell cat sat in MY front garden. I was inquisitive and it was hissing at me, how friendly? Little be known to me Grandpa had been fussing it whilst he went out to feed the birds tuppence a bag, tuppence, tuppence a bag. He’s a right Dr Dolittle my Grandpa but he better remember where his bread’s best buttered if he wants cuddles on the sofa with me later! I’ll be diva stropping, you know I will! Anyway we went on our walk and when we got back the cat was still sat in my garden. Oh dear this pussy has a death wish. Grandpa dragged me in through the front door and told Mama J and Granny all about his new found friendship with a cat. Mama J’s eyes widened as she wanted a cat a few years ago and this could be her moment. Sorry I think not, following Marble’s sad demise there’s only room for one pet in this house and that is definitely me! I have been sat guarding my kingdom well okay the front door on and off ever since. The cat was sat under the bird table waiting for its three course meal of Sparrows, Black Birds followed by Pigeon Pie but has subsequently disappeared. Granny has carried me outside twice now to show me that it has gone so I would remove myself away from the door and resume my usual position on the arm of the sofa.

So spring has sprung here. I say this but Mama J fuelled by Carol Kirkwood’s weather report this morning on BBC Breakfast is wearing a jumper with snow flakes on it. I’m going to get political and environmental here but what happened to global warming? I’ll be needing to get my tartan winter coat out again if this cold snap doesn’t avail. So let’s say spring has sprung in my heart. The butterflies are dancing in my tummy and the birds are tweeting like in the film Snow White around my head. Yes, folks I Elsie Bear Cherub am in love with Watson! (No, Mama J hasn’t been watching reruns of Sherlock so my love interest isn’t Actor Martin Freeman)

He is a handsome Lurcher cross and lives down the road. I get all agitated and bark when he moves away from me as I love seeing him so much. Mama J and Granny had a cuppa with his Mummy the other day and when Grandpa got back from his appointment I went with him to meet them at Watson’s house and we had a play date. Okay it was five minutes while the adults conversed but we are taken it slowly as I don’t want him thinking I’m some sort of floozy. I loved chasing him around his kitchen and out into their back garden. I was in my element in their kitchen area too as its open plan and very large in comparison with mine here at home. I even reenacted the famous scene in Footloose where Kevin Bacon skidded across the floor. All I needed was the tune and it would have made a perfect YouTube video. Anyway I’ve seen Watson or Watty as I affectionately call him a hand full of times in the past week and I predict our romance is going to be bigger than Scott and Charlene’s 1980s love story in Neighbours, oh gosh all those years ago. Mama J even does a good impression of Charlene’s Mum Madge calling her beau, “HAROLD!” 

I had an exciting time on Friday as Granny and Grandpa took me on a road trip, all the way to the next village to see which dogs I could terrify with my barking there. This trip out was in preparation for a Cliff Richard style Summer Holiday in July when we might be going to the Lake District. I was taken by total surprise as I just got ready to go for a walk around my own village when Grandpa took a grass side diversion over to his car and opened the door. As he did this I was so thrilled I jumped up and down like a child seeing Father Christmas. We had a wander around the neighbouring village and then they put me back in the car and left me and went to the Post Office. This was a cunning plan and a test of my quiet endurance levels. A test may I add that I passed with A* quality. Granny and Grandpa had to see whether I was okay in the car by myself as public houses don’t always welcome noisy little Yorkshire Terriers with open arms. Spoil sports! Anyway Grandpa has been eagerly looking online for accommodation that will welcome me with open arms so we are looking forward to our jaunt away this summer.

To finish on this week I must tell you that I may be in a sequel of American Werewolf In London, entitled Yorkshire Terrier In Yorkshire as it was a full moon the other evening and I was sat on my sofa arm growling at it. Oh Michael Jackson in his Thriller phase would’ve been so proud of me! That or I was saying a huge, “Hello” to the children’s television character Mr Spoon living on Button Moon.


Last week Mama J had the final of her birthday treats from Granny and Grandpa. Gosh this girl does well on the present front and her birthday nearly goes on until the next one with all the special evenings out she’s had! She was given a tour of The World of Curtain and Cushion Design. This girl lives so exotically these days. She even saw Great Granny BB’s twee country garden curtains and cushions flash before her eyes. Also there was the sumptuous Christmas colours of deep emerald greens mixed with berry tones on display. I sound like an Interior Designer off Channel 4’s Millionaires’ Mansions who would charge £20,000 for a sandalwood candle. Some of these were complimented by being made in velour material. Okay so I know you are now thinking of Little Britain’s Vicky Pollard so we’ll swiftly move away from that non-classy vision that you are all conjuring in your heads. Mama J used to have a DESIGNER (she made me make that clear) velour red evening suit. However she wore it around the pubs in town and some drunken fool spilt Blue WKD down it and it was ruined. Well, if it had of being Champagne (you have to have standards in your spillages you know) it wouldn’t have bought Mama J to tears but as it was just an alcopop, water was flowing like a tap out of her eyes. Along with the interior design elements of this show there was a lots of jigging performances and also some singing that reminded Mama J of the opening titles of The Vicar Of Dibley. Mama J was disappointed that Dawn French didn’t come on stage and reenact the now famous scene where she throws herself down a muddy hole.

There was also some fabulous musicians on the stage throughout the show and at one part there was a drummer who asked for audience participation. Mama J started off clapping however she finds herself so inept at any clapping challenge that she beats her hands to the sound of her own drum. A drum that nobody else has ever heard playing in their lives! Granny and Grandpa were just staring at her and then shaking their heads laughing at her lack of clapping know how. They never taught her this growing up just as they used to feed her all sorts of vegetables that she just decided in her teens that she didn’t like! Thankfully though this was the only audience participation in the programme of the show as it wasn’t actually an interior design event at all (sorry to Mama J for making you out to be a real sad sack there) it Riverdance! The skill of the dancers was phenomenally excellent and has been replicated by Grandpa in our living room ever since. Rhythmless Mama J daren’t partake in the dancing for fear of more embarrassment so just sits in her own little world on the sofa clapping totally out of time with the music blasting away on the stereo system. Even though I am a Yorkshire Terrier and not an Irish Jack Russell Terrier, I’ve learnt some of the skipping moves on display, that I can now put into practice when that famous Irish music comes onto the iPod. It’s a shame Michael Flatley is retiring soon as I’ve got some fantastic choreographic ideas for moves that we could’ve built a new show out of.

On Friday evening Granny and Grandpa went to a neighbours house for drinks and left me in charge of Mama J. Standard way around in our house. It was bedtime so I dutifully went out into the yard (my floral planted toilet area) to do my lady business then went up to Mama J’s room. As I entered the bedroom I spotted a flash of something move under Mama J’s chest of draws and that was it I went into full on surveillance mode. My head was under that chest of draws for about twenty minutes. I kept moving my body position and then sticking my head back under like a pig eating feed from a trough. Mama J came along for the ride (well to see what all the fuss I was making was all about) and put her head next to mine and spotted my nemesis running around under there, a spider! I saw the look of horror on Mama J’s face for a split second but I was not fearful at all and if this mission took all night then so be it, (we had Belvita to munch on should we get peckish) I accept it and would complete it fully and to the letter. After another five minutes the spider obviously got a little bit adventurous or bored of me eye balling it and tried to make its great escape passed me and down the side of Mama J’s hairdryer. I was poised ready to pounce. Like Mick Dundee on seeing a Crocodile, I was ready to wrestle… Then Mama J swooped in stealing it right from under my nose and scooped it up into a tissue and placed it down the toilet with lightening speed. I kept looking in disbelief. Was Mama J with her quick reactions actually Lewis Hamilton in disguise? Or did she indeed just want to get settled down and ready for The Graham Norton show which was about to begin? Anyway my entertainment continued for a further ten minutes until I too got bored and actually started to believe Mama J when she kept telling me she’d got the spider. I jumped on Mama J’s bed until Granny and Grandpa returned home to be told the story of my brave protective activities.


So it was Mama J’s birthday last week and what did my sassy and fun loving Mummy want to do? Perhaps a relaxing spa visit? Table dancing whilst drinking Mojitos? No, Mama J chose her venue of choice and it was York Race Course. Fair enough a day at the races is always thrilling especially for Mama J as she’s a massive fan of horses, as she used to have riding lessons every Monday morning for five years until her lovely Instructor retired last year. However there were no trotting hoofs involved for Mama J as it was the Living North Live event on at the race track instead of galloping ponies that tickled her birthday fancy! Oh dear Mama J what a thirty-six year old cliche you’ve become. Grandpa nearly spat his tea out when Mama J suggested this as her birthday treat. I can see what is coming next… The Knitting and Stitching Show! Mama J did flirt with needle work a few years back but epically failed due to not separating the threads that came in the kit from one into three. She ran out of thread and then patience a third of the way into creating her now binned masterpiece. I don’t think she’ll ever be orchestrating the next Bayeux Tapestry! Anyway after a few hours of listening to the local radio for me (I now know the words of every jingle and which order they are played in) I was rewarded when all my family came back from the event with a super heroes bandana, for me! Grandpa has delightfully deluded himself and is living in hope that my bandana will give me the special power of quietness and that I may stop barking a massive, 
“Hello” to all and sundry when out on my walks! Bless!

Prior to Mama J’s birthday she met up with an old friend of hers named Eleanor. She has known Eleanor for a number of years as she used to live just around the corner on Penny Lane. They worked together in their college holidays in the strawberry fields forever. Okay I jest here as it felt like forever did that summer as it was raining majority of the time, so on the rare occasion when the sun did break through the clouds, Mama J and Eleanor used to jump up and down excitedly screaming, “Here comes the sun!” Eleanor used to think Mama J or Jools to her pals was called Jude (Eleanor’s hearing has never being her strong point) and she’d ring her up going, “Hey Jude” Mama J couldn’t just let it be and had to correct her as it is one of her pet hates as she gets called all sorts such as Julie, Julia and also misspellings of her proper name which is Juliet to the French version Juliette. Eleanor has a very cool and bohemian living arrangement with her boyfriend and their daughter these days as they all live in a yellow submarine. Eleanor’s boyfriend is interested in the history of The Cold War and even lived in Russia for a time. So when this submarine came up for sale it reminded him of his days studying Russia’s spying tactics for his degree back in the U.S.S.R. They’ve had to do a lot of work on the submarine to make it habitable and recently started a TV bid war between the production teams of both Grand Designs and George Clarke’s Amazing Spaces. They received letters from both camps with words to the effect of, “Dear Miss Rigby, We would love to feature your amazingly quirky abode on one of our up and coming programmes….” As they began their grand design (which was a hard days night for all concerned), yes they chose Kevin McCloud’s show, there were an awful lot of, “Get back!” screams as hammers, saws and indeed kitchen units were flying around left, right and centre. Eleanor’s boyfriend was no Handy Andy but he was so optimistic and always said, “We can work it out” as shelves were falling off the walls and water was spurting out the taps! Anyway it’s been a long and winding road with many twist and shouts along the way but the programme airs in the next few months, so enjoy! 

Also for Mama J’s birthday Granny and Grandpa took her to the theatre to watch “Let It Be” which is a musical tribute to The Beatles so the tale above comes from me to you, as all you need is love to imagine all the people in this tall story. I bid you hello goodbye for this week and will continue my comedy writing revolution next week.


So when Mama J was walking me last month she found that my hard leather lead grated somewhat on her delicate little hands. I do have to confess my part in this crime against skin care as my jumping around on seeing other pooches in the village proved that Yorkshire Terrier dogs can jump and rubbed Mama J’s hands up firmly the wrong way! Ouch! Having tried a fully qualified Dog Trainer for my bouncing/barking condition the only other option for Mama J to take was… To get a nylon lead with a padded handle. The search far and wide, well okay on Amazon and eBay began and Mama J found a lovely red tartan one that would match my winter coat beautifully. She ordered the 105 cm x 19 mm. When it arrived either Mama J had got the measurements wrong or the seller had. This lead was clearly designed for a dog five times my size and when Granny clipped it on my neck to show Mama J that indeed it wouldn’t be all right on me (Mama J is ever the optimist), it felt like I’d being signed up for the Rio Olympics (Team GB of course) weight lifting squad. I should design a weight lifting YouTube video for dogs wanting to start a fitness regime, I’m sure it would go viral in minutes. Also as I’m already training Mama J walking wise so this could take my personal training plans to the next level. Anyway the lead has been placed firmly in the cupboard along with my extendable one that Mama J refuses to use as she has been scarred by horrific memories of getting wrapped around a tree by a dog named Sandy. Another slimmer lead with a smaller less weighty hook on it has been ordered and has just arrived in the post this morning. Happy days walking with Mama J can continue from now onwards and her hands are now safe from vigorous rubbing.
Granny caused Mama J to have a diva turn the other day when she was cleaning Mama J’s ensuite and managed to woman-handle Mama J’s magnifying mirror off the wall, pulling all the inner workings of it off too. Granny and Grandpa then managed to lose one of the springs to the mirror down the toilets fall pipe, or so they thought. Then to add insult to comedy injury Grandpa managed to lose a screw from his glasses (Jack Duckworth gaffer tape at the ready) while running up and downstairs for tools to try and fix the mirror back onto the wall, however failing miserably minus the missing spring. However the next day Mama J was in her bathroom about to place something in her bin when she spotted something on the side of the bin liner. Mama J feared it was a curled up spider and shouted for Granny as she felt the fear and didn’t wish to go there anyway. However on closer fearful may I add inspection Mama J realised it was the spring from her mirror. Granny came running into rescue Mama J who was now clutching the spring all positive that Grandpa would now be able to fix her mirror the next day when he was off work. Having found the spring Mama J was in a “keep calm and carry on” mood as she attempted to put her make-up on in a normal mirror, you know the way ladies all across the land have done for decades. However on getting onto her eyeshadow and liner she was claiming she couldn’t see what she was doing. She should’ve gone to Specsavers! Mama J had to then perch herself on her ever so springy toilet seat which is more like an ejector seat to complete her eye makeup with her magnifying mirror placed strategically in her sink. The next day we had the same problem and Mama J wasn’t so calm this time in fact she was in full on Mariah Carey/Naomi Campbell diva mode. She started ranting and exclaimed, “I can’t work like this!” Oh ah Missus! Grandpa was firmly instructed to try in vain if he had to, to get Mama J’s magnifying mirror up for her otherwise her eye makeup would never look the same again (well until her replacement mirror arrived from Germany today). Grandpa who thanks to Granny finding what she thought was a silver fish but was actually a glasses screw at the top of the stairs managed to work a magic trick that Dynamo would’ve been proud of and got Mama J’s mirror back on the wall. Normal service has been resumed for the worlds next if you are old school The Clothes Show’s Barbara Daly or if you are more modern Bobbi Brown of the makeup application trade!