So this last week I’ve been taking my Personal Trainer duties way too far. Not only have I got Mama J doing more exercise but now I’ve taken my quest to be the world’s greatest Personal Trainer to new and dizzy heights by working on Granny too. Granny and Grandpa are in charge of my walking activities in the main with Mama J picking up the slack where necessary.
Mama J and I went for an afternoon stroll the other Wednesday after I gave her “the stare”. All educated dog owners will know “the stare” but for those unenlightened few amongst you and other dogs of high reading and writing intelligence such as myself wanting to perfect such a move, it goes like this:-Firstly sit in front of your victim sorry training partner. Look adoringly into their eyes (oh this sounds like a dating guide or perhaps an episode of the Channel 4 hit programme First Dates. Now where’s lovely Fred?). Then start cooing like a little sparrow sitting on a fence shooting the breeze. Here we go doing a bit of acting again, today it’s a sparrow but not of the Captain Jack kind, tomorrow it could be a wilting willow tree. Lastly jump at your training partner’s legs with your full force. If you are a Great Dane perhaps its best to give a gentle paw, otherwise Accident and Emergency will be the only place your owner will be hobbling into and then coming out with an appointment for the fracture clinic and some stylish crutches to boot. All too dramatic a way to gain some extra exercise.
Anyway Mama J is very susceptible to “the stare” from me as she think I’m the cutest Yorkshire Terrier she’s ever seen. Being gorgeous and loveable has such massive advantages. So she popped her coat on, rustled around in the kitchen cupboard for some poop bags and we were off down the road and right to the end of the village.
On the way down the village Mama J’s attention was drawn to a gateway with a Beagle sat minding its own business, just chilling behind it. Fortunately I was only alerted to it after Mama J said to me, “Elsie I think we will cross the road on the way back just incase that lovely looking Beagle wants to say, “Hello!” to you. Or should that be you want to say, “HELLO!” loudly to it?”
When we explored to the end of the village, me sniffing and spraying my scent everywhere (it’s a different blend of perfume than you get in John Lewis or Boots fragrance department I grant you) I could see the neighbouring village in the distance and I wanted to go explore there too. Just imagine all the wonderful new dogs I could make “friends” with there! However Mama J had other ideas and turned us both around and then marched us over the road to avoid Beagle conflict. On crossing the road I was now in spitting distance of our village playing fields. I was all for climbing over the sty to give Mama J a run around the grass land. Mama J who hasn’t quite recovered from the experience of PE at high school said we couldn’t go on there as there maybe other dogs running loose and they may take exception to my over zealous barking. I just think that was an excuse and Mama J should go see a Therapist for her PE related anxiety issues. She clearly has post traumatic stress disorder from running around the school’s Gold Top twenty plus years ago.
Now when I started this tale I said I’d given Granny some extra physical training too and this was done a more diva-ish way than just giving her “the stare”! Granny had taken me to clear up after the Electrician had done his latest work at Great Granny BB’s bungalow which is getting ready to be rented it out in the New Year. I sadly just like Mama J was no use to Granny whatsoever in the domestic duties department. I didn’t put an apron on, I didn’t get out my feather duster and I didn’t help with any vacuuming either. Ah Mama J you’ve trained me so well indeed.
Once Granny was done it was about 2.30pm, so it was decided that we’d travel to a walking area just near the bungalow and I could have my afternoon exercise there. It was just half an hour or so earlier than I’d normally go out and with the clocks going back the other week it would be an ideal time for our stroll.
I enjoyed all the new sights, smells and sounds of the area and also enjoyed meeting some different horses behind a fence in the fields. However when we got home and Granny had settled down in the living room I started my demanding behaviour for my usual walk, at my usual time! I sat at the front door, cooed like a sparrow, pounced at Granny’s legs when she came to look for me until she took me for another walk. Mama J aptly named me Three Walks Elsie when Granny told her the tale of her increased exercise regime that day! What a Personal Trainer I am!
Mama J and Granny went out for some retail therapy last Thursday and on hearing the car pull up I started to get excited, not just about seeing them but also seeing what clothing garments they were clutching tightly in their hands. I’m a stylish pooch who loves looking at people’s purchases.
Anyway outside our house is a grassy area and Mama J decided to walk down the slight embankment towards our house. Next thing I could hear was Granny enquiring, “What the hell are you doing?” With Mama J answering back, “Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!” She had lost her footing not once but twice in the space of thirty-seconds. This time unlike every other time may I add, Mama J turned into a Weeble and she wobbled but she didn’t fall down. Mama J on averting a bum wetting sit on the muddy grass then told Granny and I all the times when she tried in vain to be a Weeble, she wobbled but she did fall down, injuring her back, knee, both her ankles at the same time (that was quite some feat) and her wrist. She is going to watch The Weebles in action once a month just to keep up with their non falling manoeuvres. Definitely a fine thing to do for Mama J’s bodily parts and their safety.
It was Guy Fawkes Night over the weekend and I was agitated more than anything else by the fireworks. On the actual evening my family just turned the telly up louder to drown them out for me but Friday night was my actual nemesis as Coronation Street’s Platt family had their own private display in their back garden.
I thought we were under personal attack when the scenes came on and started barking, so instead of switching channels Mama J, Granny and Grandpa started singing (oh that’s what that cat strangling sound was meant to be) their musical scales to me. “La! La! La! LAAAA!” I don’t know what was worse for my pointy Terrier ears the blasting fireworks, Les Dennis’s acting or Mama J’s audition for The X Factor. Let’s put it this way I was in such shock at the noise that came out of Mama J’s mouth that I just sat and stared at her in the most bemused way imaginable. I’m so sorry Mama J but I can see why you weren’t allowed to learn the violin at primary school if you performed your scales to the Teacher in that manner! I’m getting myself some ear defenders for next year to drown out the noise in all respects!