CRASHING APPLE CAUSES DANNY MAC'S HALLOWEEN FASHION MELTDOWN

We had fright night a week early as Mama J’s world nearly crumbled like a Digestive biscuit (other biscuits may apply in this crumbling process too) into a million pieces. No, she didn’t have an exhaustion, tear filled meltdown due to her busy time the previous week. Also she didn’t think the list of programmes on televisions planner was too great for eyes to watch. Although it was decided that my family would have to forgo this years The Apprentice as they thought that three hours worth of Lord Sugar’s latest business buffoons arguing was too much to bare. So why did my usually cool,calm and collected Mama J (she sounds like a James Bond character) have a meltdown? Her iPhone 6S broke! Such a first world problem! 
   Mama J first noticed the problem beginning when she went to delete her Facebook app and then reinstate it. She says that it maintains the storage capacity on her phone and keeps it at about a 7.02. Gosh this is getting too technical for even an intelligent Yorkshire Terrier like me to understand. Mama J worries, yes worries about her storage capabilities. Oh dear, may I recommend Ikea as they do some wonderful extra storage facilities, especially if you don’t have too much room? Failing that I think Mama J should get out more. On trying to reinstate Facebook the iPhone just said, “Open” however on clicking on this symbol Mama J found the app to be very much slam, shut closed! As there was no “cloud” to click on Mama J turned her phone off to see if there was any divine intervention. Yes, a bolt of lightening from the “cloud” that still wasn’t present on turning the phone back on.
   Mama J decided to leave the Facebook app to see if it corrected itself and looked on Pinterest at lots of doggie pictures for my Pinterest page. She clicked on so many doggie’s images sending them to the various sections that when she tried to reply to a friends text message the phone had a massive wobble and froze even more than Elsa and Olaf did in Frozen.
   Mama J hit the home button so violently that Granny told her to, “Calm down!” Then she “crashed” it by holding down the on/off button and the home button together. She left it to see if it would cool down from all her frantic pinning and then tried to turn it back on again. White screen, black Apple was all she saw. Mama J passed the phone onto Granny who was calmer in a technical crisis and didn’t just manically press buttons. Granny silently and serenely did a “crash” on the phone again but to no avail, the iPhone was slightly buggered!
   Mama J instead of completely freaking out went all zen like and regressed back to the days before mobiles were ever invented. Ah the joys of going out and nobody being able to get in touch with you. The days of Amstrad computers followed swiftly by the Sega Mega Drive and Sonic The Hedgehog leaping around looking for gold rings. Long before Pokemon ever went Go! When riding around on her Stinger Aero BMX and playing Blocky was the highlight of Mama J’s day. Oh and when Judy Blume not J. K. Rowling was the queen of childhood literature. Mama J’s phone was broken and she was loving it, temporarily at least.
   The loving lasted until the next morning when her iPhone still wasn’t showing any pears to go with her black Apples and she had to consult the oracle, no Google not me, to find out what to do next. Firstly she had to plug the phone into her computer then turn on iTunes. Once this was done and twenty minutes later when the latest version of iTunes was downloaded, Mama J’s iPhone was finally showing signs of life. Indeed Mama J could’ve played The Fray song, “How To Save A Life” and made the moment like a scene from Grey’s Anatomy.
   Anyhow the moment Mama J, Granny and I had being waiting for, the iPhone was turned back on and joyfully hadn’t wiped any of Mama J’s data. My image still adorned the screen saver and Facebook and the other apps were all in full working order. Mama J it’s time to put the Sega Mega Drive, the Stinger Aero BXM and the Judy Blume books away, oh and shout, “Blocky one, two three!” normal social service is resumed.
Hollyoaks and now Strictly Come Dancing star Danny Mac saved Mama J’s bacon and spared her blushes at the weekend by uncharacteristically over balancing on one of his dance moves. Whilst catching up on last weeks show, Mama J said to me when we watched his beautiful Rumba, that if Danny Mac didn’t get some 10’s this coming weekend, she would run down the road naked. She thinks the judges have been less than generous with his scores and this was going to be her way of taking them to task. Was she going to tweet them a picture?
   Anyway Saturday night came and poor Danny got his lowest score of the competition. Mama J looked at me and I looked at Mama J and we declared it nil and void as he did stumble slightly. I didn’t want the embarrassment of Mama J becoming the female version of the Naked Rambler when he didn’t do a performance that was truly up to par. We’ll leave it for this weekend but may I send a warning out to our neighbours that if you see a starkers Mama J running down the street, please don’t be alarmed, it’s only because Danny Mac has been under marked again on Strictly?
Today is Halloween and also my Granny’s birthday. Happy birthday to my fabulous Granny! Anyway my family just got back from shopping and lunch and as well as getting some bits and pieces of make up for herself, Mama J bought me two new coats and a new rabbit toy. 
   One of them is the colourful ski jacket I'm modelling at the top of this post. Now where are those ski slopes so I can do it justice and wear it to its full potential? The other is the fetchingly stylish animal print lined coat, which is all the rage with Mama J and Granny's wardrobes at the moment, that I'm wearing at the bottom of today's blog for you. How cool am I? I love it when it’s peoples birthdays and I get lots of goodies! Happy Halloween to you all and enjoy the trick or treating fun.

A WEDDING THAT OFFERS SANTA CLAUS A DATA BANK SHOVE

I have a guilty confession to make today. No, I haven’t been eating chocolate by the bucket load because as I’m a Yorkshire Terrier dog, I don’t think the Vet would be too pleased with me on that score and it’s always best to keep the Vets on side just in case I have another flare up with my very unpredictable teeth, the joys of being a Yorkie! My confession is far worse and involves cruelty towards a cushion and then unruly behaviour towards my Mama J.
   Here goes the tale of last Monday evening. I hope you are all sitting comfortably, Mama J wasn’t once I began my extremely cheeky antics! We all sit down to watch the soap operas as they are Mama J’s escapism on a night time. Granny sometimes reads a magazine or does a code word puzzle (ah she’s intelligent and likes to stimulate her brain, Mama J’s brain is stimulated with rubbish, well that’s what Grandpa says anyway) and Grandpa watches DVD’s of a very odd nature on his computer. I say odd nature as they are either Spaghetti Western’s or something with lots of martial arts content. I guess if you are a Clint Eastwood fan this might be perfectly expectable behaviour, Mama J thinks it odd, each to their own though I say. Failing finding a good DVD in his collection he reads all about war a lot. Oh and he has the sheer audacity to say Mama J’s popular tastes in television series are bad, um well no comment on that issue as I want to keep the peace in my household!
   So I start off laying on Mama J’s lap and when Granny sits down I move from Mama J’s lap onto my cushion in the middle of my two favourite girls, Grandpa’s on the floor merrily watching a fight scene, gun or fist wise it really doesn’t matter to him. 
   Well, it was last Monday and David had just been locked in The Bistro’s cellar area in Coronation Street so he didn’t do himself or anyone else any harm. Ah that one didn’t quite go to plan but this is Gail Rodwell’s wonderful family so we’ll have to let them off, as they have a colourful history of madness, especially Satan like David. Mama J at the point of Nick locking David in the cellar mentioned the words “right” and “bed” and that was my cue to pounce!
   I moved like a lion stalking its prey and my prey was the cushions behind where Mama J was sat. Firstly I shoved the cushion next to Mama J down with my paws and even my face, so then I could make my next move, which was a very cheeky move indeed. I started shoving Mama J’s back firmly with my nose and then with my paws. I was like a Burrower not a Borrower trying to get Mama J off the end of the sofa, so I could take up my rightful position on the two cushions at the end of the sofa.
   Granny and Grandpa looked on in not horror but with great amusement but they did all agree I was getting too big for my paws, sorry boots! Mama J who realised she shouldn’t really have mentioned the words “right” and “bed” as she knows they taunt me and my love for those cushions, decided to stand her ground on the very edge of the sofa until the closing credits of Coronation Street were rolling. At which point I was fully in place to watch the next programme on the telly before going on up to bed. See who needs Clint Eastwood’s shoot out showdowns or the soap operas weekly dramas when you have Mama J and I with our fight to cushion supremacy?
Mama J has had the busiest week on record and has been left wondering how at ninety years young Her Majesty The Queen has the stamina to keep up with her regal schedule. She has an even greater respect for our countries Monarch but says after this gruellingly sociable week, she would have to decline Prince Harry if he ever asked her to marry him. Oh dear here goes our very own fantasy Queen again with her delusions of grandeur!
   Last week started off with my family going out for lunch with my Great Uncle P and his lovely fiancee my Great Auntie S. They both retired a few years ago now so meet up with Grandpa, Granny and Mama J on a regular basis for a good old giggle and some yummy food. 
   The pair had recently visited a local garden centre and Great Uncle P had spotted a little temporary Christmas job that he thought might be right up his street, Santa Claus! Great Auntie S told him that his slim stature may go against him and that he might be better applying for the other vacancy the garden centre had of an Elf. Great Uncle P said that he didn’t want to be an Elf and that he wanted the top job! Over lunch he became quite adamant that Santa Claus or the top job as he saw it was the one he wanted. I think Actor Will Ferrell might disagree as he looked most fetching in his green and yellow Elf outfit. We shall have to see whether Great Uncle P decides to go for the top job next time Grandpa calls him.

   Next up was a girlie lunch for Mama J and Granny on Wednesday with some old work colleagues of Granny’s. A girlie lunch? I’m a girlie pooch where was my invitation? I would’ve fitted in very well at the cafe/come deli place they went to meet and eat at. I could’ve given my expert guidance on which cheeses people should buy. Now there’s a job they should definitely create for me and me alone!
   That same evening and one of Grandpa’s former work colleagues came over for dinner and told us all about the joys of owning a data bank! “A what?” I hear you cry. Yes, Mama J did the same thing until our friend explained that it was a 1990s electronic organiser and Mama J realised after checking them out on eBay that she used to own one herself. Our friend was most upset that he had put all his data in his data bank then his data bank was no longer opening up for business. He replaced the batteries to no joy and tried it one more time, yes one more time (this was a frustrated man by this point in the data bank tale) and it finally started working. Mama J advised him to get a pen and a paper based Filofax to write his data down in future. Ah the simple things in life that are no doubt safe in the long run, data storage wise!
Now for the main event of Mama J’s week and the one that her work schedule had to be tailored around causing her even more confusion over what day of the week it actually was. No, the main event wasn’t who died it Emmerdale’s spectacularly nutty car crashes, that came a very close second though but it was a wedding.
   Mama J was invited by her lovely friend to attend her daughter’s wedding and had been excitedly planning her outfit since getting the invitation back in February. She’d decided to wear her beautiful Chinese design Karen Millen dress that she’s had for a few years now but fits her so well and makes her feel so good when wearing it. There was only a slight breath holding moment when she tried her dress on with her new bras (we thought Bob at Debenhams might be getting worried about her bra ordering fetish again should the bra not fit with the dresses neckline) as the band was marginally thicker than on her old ones, however all was well.
   On the day of the wedding the glam squad descended, okay that squad was just Mama J with Granny’s expert help with necklaces and furry scarves. Mama J came downstairs with a hint of a gorgeous dress but also with her work hoodie and £4.00 pair of Matalan slippers on, her slippers weren’t even kitten heel in their style. Not really the look I think you should be going for Mama J but if you’re sure?
   Anyway just before she was due to leave Mama J slipped off her comfy slippers and hoodie, put her red lipstick on and was ready for the off. The wedding was at a local castle that reminded Mama J of Downton Abbey. The staff on duty were almost as well trained as Carson and Mrs Patmore, (Grandpa and Granny) I say almost as they have very high standards indeed.
   At the wedding Mama J was sat with two other dog lovers so my ears were definitely burning with all the conversation of my wild antics.
Right that’s it for this week folks as Mama J wants to try and get some TV programmes off the growing planner list. Great Uncle P said that he and Great Auntie S get stressed when their planner gets too full of episodes of The Chase. Those two must have a Bradley Walsh fetish going on!



SPOCK MAKES ANNE ROBINSON'S BLOOD BOIL

I Elsie Bear Cherub am defender of my house, road and universe no less. I’m knackered just thinking about all I prevail to defend. Last Thursday though instead of curling myself up on the sofa, I should’ve escorted Mama J to the Doctor’s surgery as she was brutally attacked by a Phlebotomist wielding not one, not two but three needles.
   Mama J has to get her blood levels checked every so often (okay more often than she would like) to make sure her warfarin and thyroid levels are all fine and dandy. Last time she went it took four attempts to get her very awkward blood to start flowing and this time it took three.
   Firstly the Phlebotomist (she’ll remain unnamed just in case other patients become afraid of needles just like people are getting frightened of clowns, with the non friendly clown saga that’s engulfed the world at the moment) sat Mama J down and joked that she’d had her first “funny” patient in first and once Mama J was done she was on the up. She could help write this blog for me getting laughs like that. 
   Secondly she proceeded to pull out a fine butterfly needle (ah this is getting technical now) as  Mama J has such fine veins and asked if Mama J had had plenty to drink that morning. Vodka isn’t really a morning drink so Mama J answered that she’d had a glass of milk and not a Russian Bride cocktail! She then went in for the kill stabbing the back of Mama J’s hand. After a few minutes the blood just wasn’t flowing out. Oh dear! The Phlebotomist then started getting agitated and was apologising profusely as she was going to have to prick Mama J again, this time in her arm. As she couldn’t find anymore butterfly needles she pulled out a contraption that looked like it should’ve been in The Beamish Museum. It looked more like a plunger than a needle. Into Mama J’s arm it went and out of Mama J’s arm blood did NOT come.
   The Phlebotomist was getting a sweat on now and Mama J (yes the one having the needles in her arms and hands) was gently telling her that everything will be okay, she just needle, sorry needed to breathe!
   It was decided (by Mama J) that the waiting room full of patients cueing up to meet their blood loss maker could wait another minute so they could just give the back of Mama J’s hand another go. This time the plunger/needle went in and blood was delicately extracted in a slow and steady manner. Hooray this job was finally a good-un!
   As Mama J left the surgery she could hear the Phlebotomist telling everyone that she’d had a bit of bother (that’s Mama J all right always causing bother) but things were back on track now.
   When Mama J arrived home all cotton wooled and taped up I was so worried as to what had just happened. I jumped on her lap after her “trauma” as Granny described it. I sniffed at her hand and then looked into her eyes just to make sure she was okay. The Rembrandts theme song to Friends was ringing in my head. Next time Mama J, “I’ll Be There For You” and that is going to be in less than two weeks time, as Mama J’s warfarin dose was amended. Oh dear that poor Phlebotomist may need a day off that Thursday or Mama J better do lots of PE style star jumps to get her blood boiling up in her veins.
After telling Grandpa of her trauma (she’s milking this just slightly now. However Grandpa does have a mild phobia of needles and would’ve become more than a little faint if he were to have such a three needle event happen to him) Mama J was given another huge shock when she walked in to find Grandpa and I watching Star Trek. It shouldn’t have come as too much of a shocker as I really enjoyed the sci-fi film 2001: A Space Odyssey when Grandpa had it on over last year’s festive period. Yes, folks sci-fi is definitely my genre and not all the soap operas that Mama J subjects Grandpa and I to each week (saying that, I’ll get more treats at meal times from Grandpa’s plate, ah there’s method in my madness).
   So Star Trek was brilliant as I felt such a bond with one of the characters that lit up my television screen. Spock! He has the same ears as mine. We are such kindred spirits, soul mates in another life form. He’s pure magic and I think I’m in love. Sorry Watson you can be my earth doggie boyfriend and Spock can be my one in space. Mama J is trying to get me an outfit just like his so we can look the same whilst we are Star Trekking across the universe. I also liked the Cling On’s, Mama J said that’s because I’m like the family’s shadow, especially when they are set to go out. I cling on to one of their legs for dear life. Anyway Grandpa and I will be fighting Mama J for the telly remote from 6.00pm each evening so we can enjoy watching our Star Trek and my lovely Mr Spock.
We all enjoyed Anne Robinson’s Britain programme last Thursday evening as it was all about the nation’s habits with their pets. As a very pampered pooch, I fully supported the lady featured methods with her many Dachshund dogs. I was slightly jealous as they got to go for treatments at a local beauty salon. I just sit on the dining room table, how is that fair? As I was in a huff by this point, Mama J had to explain to me that because I’m not always that great around other dogs that it might not be a very relaxing experience for all concerned if I was booked in for a spa day. Okay point made, its back to the dining table and family bath for me.
   One other thing Anne thought was extremely amusing was how obsessed Britain was with getting their pets on social media. As a growing social media superstar thanks to my wonderful team (Mama J) and their encouragement (“sit there and give a Vogue pose Elsie”) I have to take umbrage at Anne’s humorous mocking of a cat that made live streams to its massive Facebook following. Ms Robinson you are the weakest link, goodbye!





  

A BURLY DATE FOR THE GOLDEN BLONDIE

Granny has found a new dating website! “What?” I hear friends of my family cry in unison. I must say Granny is very happy with my Grandpa and is not wishing to have an affair or commit bigamy like Coronation Street’s Peter Barlow did in 2003, when he was married to Barmaid Shelley and Florist Lucy at the same time, cheeky boy! The trouble and strife that man got himself into. He sprung to mind as he’s returning to “The Cobbles” next week to send all female hearts a flutter once more. Anyhow just thought I’d better clear that almost Hollywood or should that be Hollyoaks scandal that I’ve generated up here? I don’t want Granny’s impeccable class and reputation being tarnished in the process of writing this blog.
   This dating site find (ah the car barn find of the dating world) came about as a result of wanting to titivate Great Granny BB’s house ready to rent it out and the site in question is called mybuilder.com. Granny emails these extremely “handymen” and they ring her back all hours of the day and evening. I say evening as Granny is definitely not a lady of the night telephone call wise. In fact anyone rings the house or a mobile phone after 9.00pm and we (my head pops up from its cushion next to Mama J too) all look at each other then the clock in horror. Her mobile however has been littered with calls and Mama J is loving it!
   Mama J sends Granny to discuss her plans for the jobs she wants doing and asks her to “check them out”. Now I would have thought you could specify on match.com should you wish for a man who is good with his hands. Oh dear this is getting crude now! There’s no wonder women think there are only unsuitable men looking for just one thing on these sites. Anyway then Granny reports back to Mama J as to the man’s age, marital status, height and so on. All these details that would most probably show up on a dating form as well but this adds to the excitement. Then if she’s interested Mama J might just pop by once they start the work in question along with Granny, just to see how they are getting on. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Honestly it is like a bad Government plan that most probably will have an odd three thousand u-turns along the way. Especially if Granny’s tastes in men differ from Mama J’s. Mind you they both seem to like Gerard Butler so a burly builder type might be what Granny thinks is to Mama J’s tastes. We shall definitely see!
   One of the jobs Granny wants doing is for a shed to be taken down and a piece of new fencing to be erected in its place. The last time Mama J did any woodwork she made a totem pole aged fourteen years old in Design and Technology class. She cut great chunks out of this poor unfortunate piece of wood, chunks that made it look nothing like a totem pole. So I think she’ll be leaving it to the professionals this time.
I had such a busy day yesterday as I went to the grooming salon, otherwise known as the dining room table. I was looking out onto the pretty road we live on though so I can’t complain to much at my outlook from on high.
   Now I may have mentioned this before but the first time I had my hair cut when I arrived from the RSPCA, I thought I’d better behave myself in fear that my family would send me back. Having being here twenty-two months now, I feel I’ve got my feet firmly under the dining room table I was stood on. I feel I can relax and wriggle around a lot more than I did the first time Granny clipped me. Did I wriggle yesterday? Granny said, “Stand still Elsie!” so I shook my booty. Destiny’s Child and their Bootylicious tune haven’t got anything on me. Grandpa tried in vain to hold me but if I wanted down from that table, then down I was lifted. Mariah Carey you’ve taught me and my diva behaviour well.
   Anyway in the end Granny managed to trim all my fluffy ends off and my fringe is no longer in my eyes. So yes other pooches of the village I can see you now in all your technicolor glory. I was then taken up for my monthly shower just to remove any residual dirty from my paws and my under carriage (ah that means tummy, I did wonder where my horse was to go with my carriage at the point of typing that line) and then Mama J came home from work to warm me up with lots of kisses and cuddles. I always do more than just the Hippy, Hippy Shake when my hair and especially my head gets wet.
   Mama J not to be outdone by me and my hair styling endeavours also went to the hair salon last week and asked her Colourist to perform a miracle and make her hair look like it did when she was nine years old! A challenge or what there?
   She had found some extremely old school photographs and decided that natural strawberry/golden blonde hair colour was so amazing that she wanted recreate the colour. Her Colourist was so brilliant and made a real effort in trying to turn back the hands of time, although I don’t think Mama J should go the whole hog and go for the au natural look fully and leave her make up in its owl printed bag. Some looks are just a step too scary for the outside world to take! 




A DEBENHAMS DOVE DELIVERS A BRA FETISH LIKE NO OTHER

According to Debenhams ordering system Mama J has got a bra fetish! Now she has been getting worried that there is someone sat at Debenhams Head Quarters, we’ll call him Bob (who’d have thought we’d have characters in this blog. Shall I pad Bob out and give him a wife and three children along with a whole backstory to boot) and as she’s been ordering all these bras Bob’s been getting concerned too while processing these orders about her love of everything bra kind!
   This fetish came about as a result of her ever so worn out grey, were once white bras which have been stretched fully out of shape. You may recall Mama J bought some new underpants (oh the excitement) earlier this year and how I told you that Mama J once had knickers from when BHS was a fully thriving retailer in the 1990s and still had the pants which were see through and not in kinky way some fifteen years later. She hasn’t had her Calvin Klein bras that long but the sides were bordering on the see through kind now too. 
   Firstly she ordered a plunge and a gel bra to try. The plunge one she hoped would give her the cleavage of the BBC’s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice’s Elizabeth Bennett. Now the Actress Jennifer Ehle, I would assume had a little more to play with to begin with than my Mama J in the bosom front and she wore a corset in that series, so perhaps Mama J was expecting too much from this bra. The only plunge in Mama J’s unique version of Pride and Prejudice was Mr Darcy plunging into the cold lake!
   Mama J moved swiftly on to the gel bra which reminded me of the famous Coronation Street water bed scene with Reg and Maureen Holdsworth, it gave Mama J a sinking feeling too. This bra started swishing around before it was even clamped to Mama J’s chest. It was like a newly designed life jacket that could be used on the remake of Baywatch. Pamela Anderson has gel inside her and Mama J had hers firmly strapped on the outside. I think Mama J might audition for a role when they start wanting people for Baywatch. However she would be the one that got crashed against the rocks and burst her armbands and then had to be rescued by one of Malibu’s lifeguarding team. Failing that if she wore her gel bra she would just float to the top of any wave like a champion surfer dude riding the crest of the water.
   These bras were cast aside and Mama J went to try some bras on in Marks and Spencer’s. However as the happy world of Haribo is no more in Mama J’s world she would need to get a smaller back size bra wise. The Doctor said go to sugar rehab and Mama J said, “Yes, yes, yes!” Mrs M&S couldn’t find a 30A that wasn’t like a teenagers training bra so it was back onto Debenhams website for Bob to send her some more bras. She’s kept Bob busy in his job!
   These bras arrived and fit her so well that Bob is now fearing for his job and I’m fearing for Mama J’s sanity. On trying them on Mama J was strutting her stuff like a catwalk model. However I don’t think Naomi Campbell ever danced about with a gigantic grin on her face singing, “Mama Cuckoo! Do the Mama Cuckoo!” This dance could be the next craze in the dance routine era after The Locomotion, Cha-Cha Slide, Saturday Night and the Macarena! I lay on Mama J’s bed with Granny sat next to me and watched a fashion show way more entertaining than London, New York and Paris Fashion Week’s combined. I think US Vogue Editor In Chief Anna Wintour should be on the look out for Mama J as she’s going to be the rising star of British, no global fashion. Get her on the cover and on your website doing the Mama Cuckoo now!

Mama J bought the UK’s leading dog magazines (okay the ones available in our local Tesco store) the other week and has read each and every one of them from cover to cover. She has then been trying out some of the techniques on yours truly. Cesar Millan eat your heart out.
   She read that if you shout at a dog that barks, that you are just encouraging it to bark some more. I agree I love the noise and want to make some more. Let’s start a band and I’ll be the Lead Singer. I do a mean rendition of Who Let The Dogs Out? With this in mind my family started to perform mind tricks that Derren Brown would be proud of. They totally ignore me when I bark. This has had a strange effect on my psyche as I expect to hear their cries and even look for them but to no avail. Yes, Mama J, Granny and Grandpa I’m looking and talking to you. I bark and don’t get a response, so I bark some more and some more. Oh dear I think I’m meant to have realised by now that my barking isn’t getting me any attention. However I’m hardcore and this is definitely going to be a battle of wills. Wish me and my Yorkshire Terrier voice some luck!

Granny sent Mama J into a nature related tail spin this morning when she spotted a dove perched on the edge of our shed roof. This baby dove did not look like a happy chappy at all and looked even worse when Mama J went out there to give it her own blend of counselling. She asked the anxious looking bird, “Are you not happy in life?” Then as she’s attempting to be our very own Dr Dolittle she started cooing to it, just to see if it understood bird language more than English. The dove had moved to the other end of the shed when Mama J went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and had been joined by a larger looking dove who was watching over it. Maybe Mama J would like to cuckoo coo at that dove now too.