I wrote so much last week about Mama J’s barmy lake side bedroom activities that my paws hurt and they needed a rest. On returning from The Lake District, Granny and Grandpa decided they needed another break to get over Mama J’s moaning and groaning that there was no place like home. With the loony lady and I safely back home and comfy in our bed, Granny and Grandpa went to the seaside overnight leaving me once more firmly in charge of Mama J.
Following a ride in Primrose, Mama J’s Mini Cooper and a stroll around a neighbouring village it was our teatime. Mama J gave me my Lily’s Kitchen with a bit of wet Chappie on top for good measures then cooked herself a pizza. Now when I say cooked I mean she got a pizza out of the freezer and popped it on an oven tray and placed it in the Everhot. Mama J’s definitely not turned into Delia Smith!
   On finishing her pizza and giving me a little bit of the cheese topping, that may I add is always gratefully received, Mama J proceeded with the washing up and the evening entertainment literally began. I sat down in the centre of our kitchen and Mama J popped the Welsh musical talent that is Duffy on the iPod. She then began crooning or should that be groaning along with Warwick Avenue. Once that song was finished she forwarded the album onto a song named Mercy. This was a very apt title indeed for me and my now bleeding ears. Yes, I’m begging you for mercy Mama J and asking, “Why won’t you release me?”
Once Duffy accompanied appallingly by Mama J had finished, I hoped the washing up was complete but oh no there was the drying of the dishes for Mama J to undertake. Donna Summer’s Last Dance was now blasting out with Mama J giving it her best 1970s disco moves. You’ve heard of ladies dancing around their handbags in a nightclub scenario but I bet you’ve never seen anyone dancing around their Yorkshire Terrier. After that song had completed we moved onto Hot Stuff. Mama J by this point was fully warmed up and was giving it all the arm thrusting moves that were featured in the smash hit movie The Full Monty. Thankfully for people potentially walking by our open curtained window that was as far as she went with recreating the moves from the film! I don’t think Mama J getting herself arrested for making an exhibition of herself even in her own home is a very good idea, even on a Friday night. Anyway I sat there totally aghast and in sheer wonderment at her dancing and dish drying prowess. Her moves are something I can’t ever forget even if I really, really want to!
The iPod was switched off and things calmed down for the evening as we both enjoyed a hefty dose of the soap operas on the telly. At 9.00pm it was time for my bedtime toilet activity. As Mama J opened the back door it was pouring with rain. She managed to get me outside into the yard with the promise of a treat. However I just stood there looking at the door and refusing to do my evening ablutions. When Granny and Grandpa are just out for the evening I’m excused my wee until they return but with them being away for the night Mama J was having none of it. On her boots and coat went and then it was my turn to get leaded and harnessed up. With that we were out in the rain and running down the road until I squatted and did a wee. It was very quick wee indeed as I don’t like the rain at the best of times.
   Once we were back home and I’d been towel dried off I had a mad ten minutes. I ran around the landing joyfully and then rolled my wet body around Mama J and my bed. When Mama J tried to calm me down I went even more mental playing about with my squeaky toy and bouncing around the bed. My craziness finally depleted and we settled down for the night.

The next day when Mama J opened the bedroom curtains all I could see was grey clouds and wet spots on the windows. When Mama J tried in vain to encourage me down off the bed I rolled on to my back, legs akimbo and wholeheartedly refused to budge.
   Mama J tried to tempt me downstairs with a shake, rattle and roll of my biscuit container but I still wouldn’t move. However when I heard the lead cupboard door open I thought I better show willing and ran down the stairs. This time though I had my rain coat wrapped firmly around my body and was ready for some unenthusiastic walking action. 


My family and I are freshly back from our Lake District adventures and what a part of the week we’ve had. I say part of the week as it didn’t go to plan… At all! We arrived on Monday and by Wednesday afternoon we were travelling back down the A66 and back into North Yorkshire. Now I feel I must fully explain the reasoning behind our swift and untimely departure from our lake side retreat. 
We arrived at about 3.30pm and after unpacking the car took a leisurely stroll down towards the lake at the bottom of the site. Granny and Grandpa took me on the jetty whilst Mama J stood by the lake bank cooing that it looked unstable and that she didn’t feel safe watching me perched perilously on the wooden edge. Oh she’s such a drama queen! 
   Following a wander around the site Mama J’s first and last Lake District training session began. She had to get back up the hill to the top of the site where our abode was situated. Now you’d have thought she was climbing Mount Everest the way she was going on, not a 200 yard hill! She kept stopping at every speed hump along the road, ticking them off as if she was ticking off her life long ambitions. I swear I thought once she’d reached the top of the site she was going to give an acceptance speech akin with the one Gwyneth Paltrow gave when she won her Oscar.
As we settled into lodge life, Mama J said she could happily live permanently in accommodation like this. She even had Granny looking on the Internet to see how much the lodge opposite was for sale at. Was I going to become a Lake District pooch instead of a Yorkshire lady? Err I think not, as things really took a turn for the worse when Mama J put her pyjamas on and climbed into bed. Was there a monstrous spider lurking between the bedcovers? No, it was even more sinister than that… The bed was rocking! Every movement Mama J made in this tiny, unstructured and unstable bed left her fearing for her life! As Granny walked by the room she could hear Mama J’s cries of, “It’s bloody rocking!” then, “Dorothy was right!” Dorothy who the hell was Dorothy? When asked by Granny to explain that she didn’t have an imaginary friend, Mama J replied, “The Wizard Of Oz! Dorothy! There’s no place like home!”
   After half an hour of rocking and I don’t mean in a passion filled ‘if this caravan is rocking don’t come a knocking’ kind of way and once everyone, myself included was in bed, Mama J emerged from her cabin bedroom and made her way to the sofa. She had put on her orange rain coat for warmth and then topped it off with the dog blanket the lodge site had kindly provided for me to lay on. What a vision! Now I know it’s a Joules rain coat but I do think it was designed for wet walking activities rather than sofa surfing!

Following a slightly comfier night than she may have had in the bedroom, Mama J’s mind was firmly made up, she wanted to go home! Thank goodness she’s never attempted a cruise because I’m really sure those beds would be rocking with the ships wave floating movements. Anyway she set about Grandpa and bribery was the order of the day. She offered him £700 to drive her home which was increased to £1000 soon after. Grandpa told her to stop being so silly and that we were staying until Friday. The look of horror on Mama J’s face lead her to make a desperate search of the Internet for train tables and local taxi companies. This girl really wanted to be in her own bed!
   Once Mama J had calmed down to an almost human manner we all got in the car for a drive around the northern Lakes. Mama J told Grandpa he was going the wrong way when he wasn’t heading in the direction of home. This joke, oh she wasn’t joking, went down fairly well with Granny who was swaying towards going home too but not with Grandpa who just huffed at her. After driving around the breathtaking beauty spots we all retreated back to the lodge for bread and soup and an afternoon of Mama J moaning and moaning some more that, she wanted to go home and asking if it was Friday yet. Oh dear!

It was 4.50am on Wednesday morning when Mama J was startling awoken to the sound of banging and then rustling from outside the lodge. Had MI5 come to bust her out and take her home to her beautiful bed? No, on looking out the window Mama J saw the culprits of all the noise. A flock (well okay there were three of them) of sheep outside kicking the side of the lodge and chomping on the bushes! This was an ambush of a very different kind. Also aren’t sheep meant to send you off to sleep not wake you up from your slumber?
Once the rest of the lodge had woken up there was a different mood in the camp and especially from Granny. She who to be fair to Mama J was wavering slightly the day before, had also decided that this style of holiday wasn’t really for her either and wanted to go home too. It was decided that Grandpa would go climb a mountain. Now that wasn’t Mama J definition of a mountain which was a 200 yard hill but an actual mountain and then once he’d returned we could all go home, yippee!
   Grandpa had a pretty scary experience up the mountain and nearly turned back at one point but managed to calm himself down enough to complete the task. He already had a dodgy hip when we set of for The Lake District and now he has two dodgy knees that he keeps telling us will be okay tomorrow each morning too!

Mama J was thrilled to be home and even more thrilled to be sleeping in her own bed. Like she and Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home!”


I’m under specific orders of The British Empire, (okay so maybe Her Majesty The Queen isn’t quite fully briefed on my great undertaking) The Ramblers Association, The Lake District’s Tourist Information Office and medical professionals such as Mama J’s General Practitioner and also her Cardiologist that I must dog nap Mama J and the rest of my family.
   I’ve already started secretly packing a doggie bag, which is not just full of snacks brought back from the pub for me but essential items for my mission. These items include my lead, harness, a few bottles of water, a coat fit for all weather events and some hearty treats. Also I better include a map, compass, first aid equipment and a woggle. Yes, I’m a trainee Brown Owl in the making!

Next week I will turn aggressive not just with the other dogs that I don’t like in the village but with my family and order Grandpa along with Granny and Mama J to pack a bag of essentials too. Mama J will no doubt pack a trunk full of things as if she’s going on a year long tour of every country on the planet. Granny will be in a fret over my pending unruly behaviour but will have to go along with the situation as, well, I’m in charge!
   Once we are packed I will order Grandpa to drive us in his Freelander 2 up to The Lake District where my reign of terror on Mama J’s fitness levels in particular will really begin. We’ll start with some low lying lake side walks to get the heart pumping and then we will try and advance her to some of the higher fells in the area. Mama J and my family will enjoy their tour of duty to me on pain of death!
   On an evening we will stay in a comfortable luxury log cabin as Mama J still needs her home comforts, especially as all the training may take it out of her somewhat. I hope you didn’t think she was going to be doing things proper old school style and staying in a tent and washing herself and her smalls in the lake. I don’t expect her to turn all outdoorsy all at once.

All that remains to be done is for you to wish me the best of luck in my training mission, I’m sure I will drill Mama J and my already fit Granny and Grandpa into supreme fitness. I will of course produce a comprehensive statistical, photographic and written report for you all the read on my return. Dib, dib, dib!


Not such a big revelation but Mama J is now 37 years old. Yes, folks that is 37 and not 7 years old! However she really showed herself up in a very childish way indeed on Saturday evening. She was left squealing like a girl. Now I know she is a girl but well a young female child would have more guts and grit about them than Mama J showed.
Granny and Grandpa were out for a meal with a group of neighbours, therefore Mama J and I were left for a girlie evening in. Sadly we didn’t do face packs and paint each other nails, well claws in my case. We sat and watched the previous evening’s telly of The Crystal Maze and The Graham Norton Show. It was entertaining enough especially Graham Norton’s programme as he always seems to get the most out of his guests.
   Following The Voice Kids it was time to get ready for bed. I know we live such a rock and roll lifestyle in our household. Mama J was in the kitchen when I dashed upstairs and bounced about on Mama J’s bed without going out for a wee. I’m trying to bring some cheekiness into our lives but if that’s as naughty as my unruly behaviour gets, I think I better give Ozzy Osbourne a call to find me some bats heads to eat… Or would a squirrel do as we have plenty of them roaming the trees around here?
   After a shake of my biscuit container and the shout of, “Treat!” I was back downstairs munching away and then out into the yard doing what nature and Mama J intended, my evening wee! Following my ablutions the fun really began to kick off!
Mama J got ready for bed and we watched Mrs Brown’s Boys followed by the BBC News. Everything was going well until Mama J put Law and Order UK on. No, it wasn’t Bradley Walsh’s acting talents that were the crime Mama J was fearing (sorry Bradley just cracking a joke I think you’re a good actor really) but in the corner of the room right above Mama J’s bedroom door sat a spider! Oh no here we go again!
   The lamp beside the bed went on and Mama J flew out of bed hoping that it was just a moth. On closer inspection it was definitely a bloody spider. Mama J got her fly swat out but it was perched up high where the wall meets the ceiling. By this point the little bugger started running and Mama J started screaming in a shrill voice, “Stay there you little bugger!” 
   That was it I could take no more, I was off onto the landing to spy for Granny and Grandpa’s return. Mama J came to join me on the landing and we sat there like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. By the way she’s definitely Tweedledum may I just add? Mama J kept running in to check where the spider was. Every time she cruised passed the bedroom door she made a sound like she was going to get squished by a pending sliding door attack. This kept making me look alarmingly at her, well even more alarmingly for a dog sat on a landing because I was sick of the circumstances I found myself in that evening.
At 12.30am, yes Granny and Grandpa were still missing in action at that late an hour, Mama J could take no more checking and back checking of the spider’s activities and decided it was high time my grandparents returned home. She text them the following message, “There’s a spider in my room. I wouldn’t mind some sleep tonight. When are you coming home?”
   Ten minutes later my spider catching Grandpa along with Granny returned home like naughty school children late home from their friends party and Mama J was allowed to go get some beauty sleep and I was given lots of cuddles for the trauma I’d endured whilst having to put up with a wuss like Mama J all night long. Next time Granny and Grandpa go out, I’m going to become a handbag pooch and go with them!


Folks I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m going to have to keep this edition brief as I’m very much flying solo editorial wise. Oh this could be fun, I could write all sorts and no one is going to pull me up for it. Do you think I should swear? Let the blogging games begin!
   Yes, Mama J has been struck down with Granny’s cold. Unlike Granny though who is a bit of a silly sausage struggler on type, sorry an absolute trooper, Mama J moans, groans, rings her bell for tea service (nothing new here then for Carson and Mrs Patmore aka Grandpa and Granny) and has to take two days off work just until her symptoms have slightly passed, okay more or less gone.
   I did along with the Vicks First Defence Nasal Spray try to warden off the evil cold spirits by sitting on Mama J’s chest while she was trying to have a coughing fit on Friday evening. I’ll be your female Kevin Costner Mama J and Bodyguard you from the sniffles! Come on cold virus if you think you’re hard enough! Oh I’m getting into this role play act now!
   Following two days off Mama J went back to work yesterday and midway through her shift her concerned good friend and colleague asked her if she was okay, she replied that she was fine and her pal said, “Are you sure because you look as white as a sheet?” Mama J were you trying your hand at an audition for the role of Casper The Friendly Ghost again? Remember how I tried to teach you how to, “Ooooohhh!”and “Aaaahhhh!” to maximum scary effect last time the role came up?
So it was my honorary birthday last Thursday. My family picked 15th June as it’s six months from the date they adopted me. I turned the grand old age of 8 years old, although this is of course debatable with me being a rescue pooch.
   Mama J and Granny popped of to the pet shop and brought me back lots of yummy treats for my lips and then my belly to devour. Mama J was under strict instructions that I didn’t need anymore new toys. Granny and Grandpa are such spoil sports at times. Whose day isn’t brightened up by a brand new squeaky animal shaped toy?
   Anyway they came home with the calming version of Pooch & Mutt treats, a doggie chocolate bar and some chews. I was allowed a chew straight away without even waiting for my birthday, 24 hours later and began to nibble it.
   My handsome doggie friend Watson’s Mum called in for a coffee and I greeted her normally but then was so taken with my chew that I continued to chomp away. Therefore my family have come up with the cunning plan of whenever we have visitors round, they are going to give me a chew to calm me and my over-enthusiastic barking down. A win, win situation all round I think! 
On the actual day of my birthday I was most upset to be left alone for a few hours while Mama J and Granny went to… See another dog! How dare they? The pooch in question is named Gracie and she’s a beautiful Boxer who was staying with a friend while her family were away on holiday.
   When they arrived…Without me! If I made friends easier I would’ve been allowed to go too, they said! Gracie was in the garden sunning herself until Mama J and Granny were safely sat down. On entering the house Gracie who at one year old was the size of a very leggy Shetland Pony then tried to climb on Mama J’s lap for a cuddle. Now I can do the lap jumping trick as a Yorkshire Terrier, build wise I’m fine but with Gracie being a Boxer, there were fears for Mama J’s safety, from yes, Mama J. I just jest, Mama J absolutely loved Gracie and thought she was so gorgeous. Granny keeps saying to me, “Elsie we met a lovely Boxer dog and she was so quiet, unlike you!” Harsh but yap, yap true! However I’m secure in the fact that I know my family love me, just the way I am. Oh I’ve clearly watched Bridget Jones too many times, quoting that line there!


Last Thursday morning I made an attempt to make my voice well and truly heard. Now I couldn’t register to vote in the General Election so I did a protest lie in instead! Yes, folks the rain was pitter pattering at the window and I cleverly managed to get myself under the duvet covers and refused to go downstairs when my Granny shouted of me for my morning walk. When she came upstairs to get me she couldn’t help but call Mama J in just to see what I had done. Here for all of you to behold is photographic evidence of me under the covers. See if you will my paw strategically placed just to give me an air of defiance but at the same time calm self assured confidence.
   Now for any other doggies wanting to take a stand and vote with their paws on a wet election day, I’m willing to do a crash course in how to get maximum coverage, duvet wise, anywhere in the country. This could be spread worldwide should uptake be high. We dogs must unite about against the lunacy of our owners and their madness of wanting to go out walking in the pouring rain! 

Mama J took her life into her own plastic glove covered hands yesterday when she had to volunteer to chop up and promote steak and ale pies. Her colleague enthusiastically managed to get herself out of pie gate by saying her nails were painted. Umm some excuse, sorry reason! Especially when beautiful, okay so they weren’t Armani or anything even remotely classed as designer, so let’s change that statement to practical gloves came as standard. 
   Off Mama J went to get a knife from the customer cafe, she donned the ever stylish white hat and gloves and was ready to cut up the pies. On putting the knife into the pies the perils of the morning all began! The gravy and ale mix came oozing out at a rate of knots and Mama J began to panic, she was perspiring from her brow! You see she thought herself and all the store’s customers were in gravy, sorry grave danger of drowning. To her this was a natural disaster akin with a volcano bubbling and starting to erupt towards a township. 
   Mama J realised she couldn’t curtail this pending doom on her own, so dashed to the phone and rang her bosses. They could obviously tell from the tone of her voice that Mama J feared for her life! At once they were by her side and aiding her in her quest to safely chop up the pies and get them into the paper cake holders provided. Mama J, well she was in full on panic mode by this point, so just stood there and watched on in pure horror as her two of her bosses tried cutting the pies but found their fingers were drowning too. Yes, really how many members of staff does it take to chop a set of pies? On realising this plan was deeply flawed, the Bear Grylls member of the group came up with the genius solution of, “I’ll get you a spoon!” 
   This saved Mama J, all the members of staff on duty and the store’s customers from mortal peril. Mama J along with her power tool, a spoon managed to successfully fill the cake holders with pieces of scrumptious warm pie. More to point the pies went down a treat with the eating public and Mama J, now I need to type this bit quietly as her bosses maybe reading this and will keep her in mind for future pie filled promotions, well she actually enjoyed herself in the end. Triumph over adversity! 
Friends of our family came over for lunch at our local pub last week. They bought with them their young son and a friend’s daughter who they were looking after for the day. 
   When they had finished their lunches four year Amelia and Mama J were playing count the dots that Amelia had drawn. On successfully counting Mama J cheered and Amelia looked at her, laughed and said, “You’re mad!” Mama J gave a thanking high five to Amelia for her “kind” compliment. This outstandingly intelligent little girl had worked Mama J out in a matter of hours. Well, I guess there is a fine line between madness and genius!


So for Grandpa and the other villagers involved, campaigning really got going with great gusto last week. A Parish Council meeting took place, that provided the public and one of the developers an opportunity to have their say. It turned into what Mrs Merton used to call on her show, a heated debate. There was then a local televised news report as well as the radio stations in the area interviewing my Grandpa. As a pure Grandpa’s girl I was beaming with pride at hearing him speak. At first I thought he was in the room talking with passion again about the proposed building work, when Granny was listening to the radio on Thursday morning whilst eating her porridge oats.
   After listening to Grandpa’s radio debut and yes he’s definitely in my top ten, Granny wandered up to join the televised protest group. She said the gaggle of people streaming towards the earmarked field for development was like a zombie cult trying to follow its leader. Okay maybe not the look the group were going for in terms of public relations. Think I better akin that with The Pied Piper of Hamelin instead.
   It was decided that I couldn’t go to the protest as I maybe arrested for breach of the peace. This was a wise move in the end as there were some of my doggie frenemies also there and I would’ve got myself into trouble for barking at them and starting a potential riot. Not really the coverage the group were trying to achieve, a Thursday morning dog fight and not of the Top Gun variety. I feel the need, the need for flying dogs everywhere! 
   I instead stayed at home with Mama J who couldn’t go as she just decided she was camera shy (oh so that’s why she’s always point the camera my direction) and oh yes had to wait in for her Debenhams delivery of more cotton t-shirts. 
   Mama J thought it would never be hot again and she could just get away with wearing long sleeved shirts. She then wondered why she’s been overheating these past couple of weeks. Bless what a red hot, literally at times, simpleton she is! Anyway she’s wearing a t-shirt today and yes folks it’s raining, so please join an orderly queue to assign blame in her direction for the down turn in the weather.

Once the filming was done everyone started appearing down our road going back to their houses. Just before Granny got back, I was sat in my usual vantage point on the sofa arm, like Simba surveying my kingdom. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a lady and man with a very large camera. Yes, this is it Hollywood have finally come a calling! Honestly you write a blog for just over a year and finally a film crew have found me and I didn’t have to move a muscle from the comfort of my own home. 
   With that Mama J and I spotted Granny coming down the adjoining driveway and Mama J went open the door to let her in. I realised this was my moment and sprung into action. I was like Matt Damon in the Bourne movies. I ran passed Mama J and then passed Granny straight towards the camera man and the lady who turned out to be Cathy Killick the reporter from BBC Look North. I danced around them showing off my best shimmying moves, well Hollywood does love someone whose multi-talented. Granny and Mama J apologised for my enthusiasm but they just seemed to lap up my work. If Diversity ever wanted a dog to join their dance troop, I’m available! Once I’d finished my “turn” and to the relief of Granny, who thought I may turn attack dog (well let’s face it not everyone likes the press) I was ushered back inside the house with the promise of sausages!
   Our house and our beautiful poppies were featured on BBC Look North but my star dancing debut sadly was not. These news editors clearly don’t know creative genius when they see it! Maybe they thought it was too much excitement for their viewers on a Thursday lunchtime and teatime show. 


“Cover your eyes and Elsie’s too!” Grandpa ushered, no shouted to Mama J last week while my family were enjoying an evening cup of tea. Now Mama J is 37 years old and has experienced the sights and sounds of drunken debauchery on her numerous nights out over her partying years. I am a former city Yorkshire Terrier, who is altogether just as street wise as Dizzee Rascal. I love going Bonkers and I sure would Dance Wiv Me, well Dizzee if he so asked me.
   Just what was going on outside of our living room window? I’ll keep you in suspense no longer… Two sparrows were trying their luck at procreation on our railings! It was like a scene from the Fifty Shades Of Grey movies and these two birds were using their flapping feathers to spank each other with. All this whilst one bird was bouncing around on the other birds back. Yes, our railings really had become their red room of pure passion.
   Grandpa was totally prudish to the birds moment of ecstasy and jumped up and down waving his arms around to shoo them way but Mama J just saw it as nature. She’s a Countryfile and Springwatch fan and was sure that both Matt Baker and Chris Packham would approve of this outburst of flying feathers. However Mr Packham would probably be able to explain it in much more scientific terms than to akin it to a bonker buster book and film but hey ho I’ve got a simple, mucky and poetic mind at times!
Now without completely lowering the tone of this blog, Mama J was getting out the shower and drying herself off, gently caressing her body with the towel, up and down her skin in circular waves whilst thinking longingly about Idris Elba. Okay I really am going to stop this smut now I promise. 
   It was last Wednesday morning and she was drying herself off and she coughed to clear her throat. With that there was a ding and then a loud yelp of, “Ouch!” that I heard from down the road, whilst Granny and I were out for our morning stroll. Yes, Mama J had pulled the bottom of her back.
   This sure is the most unconventional way to pull a muscle that I think I’ve ever heard of and I’m sure if Mama J did go to the Doctor’s they wouldn’t be able to help but chuckle. 
   So she has been wandering around like The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, only taking Calpol to ease her pain. Mama J will only take one Calpol every four hours as well as she doesn’t want to become addicted to children’s pain relief. Granny and Grandpa both suggested Deep Heat cream, however with the hot weather we’ve experienced into the weekend, Mama J felt that the pungent smell may put people off coming to her counter at work. It’s so nice that still in pain she’s concerned about the companies profits!
   Anyway her back does seem to be improving but she won’t be standing legs apart or thinking about Idris Elba next time she decides she has to clear her throat. 


In my family politics really is the order of the day. However we aren’t talking about the election fever that is gripping the British nation… Okay I mean every televisual news report trying to whip us all up into one mass of election frenzy. Everyone around these shores has practised voting on every issue there is over the last few years. I vote that we don’t need to vote again for another few years at least. Anyone else with me, please put a cross in the box below!
   We’re not even discussing Donald Trump’s latest political faux pas. He tweets a disaster almost every hour, it’s so difficult to keep up with his every public relations nightmare.  
My family’s political conversations (oh and there has been a lot of chatter coming from their mouths) have been dominated by the looming nature of 3000 houses engulfing our beautiful village and turning it from a rural idyl into a town. My Grandpa has started a protest group to try and garner local support against the build. I’m prepared for him to be laying in the middle of the road in front of a digger one day when we go out for a morning stroll. Or he could go sit in a tree just like Emily Bishop and her nephew Spider did in Coronation Street, in an attempt to save The Red Wreck. I will lend my support by barking along in protest and snarling at anyone with a local council clipboard. I’m a feisty Yorkshire Terrier, they won’t mess with me!
   With Grandpa’s group just getting into its stride Granny, Mama J and I are feeling a bit like a family of golfing widows. All we’ve heard all last week is the pitter patter of, not tiny feet but Grandpa’s fingers going ten to the dozen on his laptop’s keyboard. I try to give him a, “Stroke me now please Grandpa!” paw but I am being more than slightly passed over for the cause. Now I know how he must feel when on a Monday I’m in my blogging zone and only wanting disturbing for food and exercise. 
   Well, generating interest for a blog pawed by a Yorkshire Terrier is such tireless Monday work! Then there’s all my other social media engagements, like Mama J waving a camera in my face just when I’ve pressed the button (don’t worry not the nuclear button that world leaders have) and this has gone live for that week.
   Anyway I wish Grandpa and the other villagers involved in this campaign the best of luck in trying to change the minds of the local council’s planning department. I know Mama J and I like path walking but I also want to feel the grass between my paws and see the same idyllic country views that I and other doggies before me have had the pleasure of seeing for many years to come. 
On Thursday afternoon when Mama J got back from the hairdressers looking gorgeously quaffed, us three girls settled down to watch Sarah Beeny’s Channel 4 property programme How To Live Mortgage Free. 
   The first episode where barge living dominated the proceedings had Mama J on eBay looking for a run down watery abode that she had no clue how to do up! Now Mama J as I told you all last week can’t swim, so she better look into some life insurance just so I’m fully looked after, should she fall in the canal whilst trying to board her boat. When she went on the school barge she missed her footing and her right jeans leg ended up taking a dipping, so things aren’t looking too promising for a new water lifestyle.
   Anyway this weeks show was about a couple who did up a double decker bus which was interesting especially considering they both had mobility issues. However Mama J has decided to take umbrage with some of the ideas, as a lot of the people featured build their unconventional homes on family members land. This and all the possible building work in our village got too much for Mama J and she ranted, “I’ve had enough of folk! I’m off up Dale to live!” Granny was hysterical (I was worried at first as she was giggling so much I thought she was crying) and laughed all her make-up clean off her face at Mama J’s very Yorkshire dialect. Now I know I’m a Yorkshire lass too but we’ll be having sing songs of, “On Ikla Mooar baht ‘at!” next should anymore Yorkshire come out of Mama J’s mouth, along with stuffing our faces full of Yorkshire Puddings and washing them down with a mug of Yorkshire Tea. Now where’s my flat cap, I’m off up Dale too?


Well, I managed to get through my week closely monitoring Mama J’s every movement. It was a challenge but one I feel I rose to so very well. I’m such a formidable boss lady even if I do say so myself! If she breathed too heavily or sniffled into her handkerchief too much, I was there staring into her eyes to make sure she was up for the day and walking activities that lay ahead.

I had her out and about touring every village in our vicinity and chasing off other pooches that got in our way. We had the most beautiful weather for our “tour” which did turn into a Mini Cooper adventure in Primrose, Mama J’s set of wheels. I so enjoyed riding shot gun next to Mama J watching the countryside fly by and then getting my paws on unfamiliar turf for a stroll. Seen as these villages were local I didn’t need to play the role of navigator. However next time Granny and Grandpa go away, I live in hope that we may go further afield and I may get to use my map reading skills to there limits.

On one walk we went to such a pretty village that had a duck pond in the centre of it. Things were going swimmingly (pardon the pun) when I spotted a duck descending into the water. With that I was pulling hard on my lead to give chase. Mama J on the other hand didn’t share my enthusiasm for that sort of sporting activity. This was probably due to the fact that Mama J can’t swim. Where were a pair of armbands when she needed them? Thankfully for her I’m just a Yorkshire Terrier and not a German Shepherd and she’s more than powerful enough to pull herself and me to a minimum safe distance away from the waters edge. I swear as I was moved swiftly away from the pond I could hear the duck quacking, “Na! Na! Na! You won’t get me now!” Therefore I have decided that Mama J is going to learn to swim. I’ve already been online looking at lesson timetables and I’m just going gently persuade her to go along for a splash. So next time my little ducky pal you, Mama J and I are going to have some proper watery fun!
On Tuesday Mama J had to show willing and go to work for the afternoon. Well, they do pay her and this leads to the me living the lavish lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to, so I fully support her going behind her shop counter. Whilst Mama J was earning her crust, I was living the high life! I got to spend a lovely afternoon with my handsome boy Watson and his equally fabulous Mum on a play date at his house.
   I had the best time laid on Watson’s Mum’s lap watching the beautiful and talented Keeley Hawes in The Durrells. I don’t know whether this made Watson a bit jealous as he’s not allowed on the sofa or on people’s laps but I did keep a look out for squirrels whilst I was up there so Watson could chill out. I must remember not to bark out The Durrells plot line though when Granny has a catch up session later this week, I’ll be getting a large case of déjà vu when that comes on the telly! Anyway I give massive thanks to Watson and his wonderful family for their kindness and for welcoming me into their lovely home. It was a real treat.
As well as walking me a record three times a day. See I said to you all I’d be a hard task master and I certainly wasn’t lying. I also witnessed Mama J doing other strenuous activities. No, it wasn’t anything smutty, you mucky minded lot! She CLEANED the bathrooms, HOOVERED the carpets and WASHED and IRONED clothes!  All this was done under my watchful and indeed amazed eye. I earned myself a few more treats for my brilliant supervisory role in all of this when Granny and Grandpa came home to an extremely tidy house indeed. They needed a lie down to get over the shock!

When Mama J got home from work on Friday we were told tales of Granny and Grandpa’s Majorcan holiday. They went to visit Grandpa’s Step-Mum, Sue and her gorgeous Papillon dog, Bruma. Now it was said that Bruma rivalled me on the barking at other dogs scale. However I’m pleased to announce baring an altercation on a street corner that my crown is firmly still in tact!
   I’m sure if Bruma and I ever crossed paths and came wet black nose to wet black nose that there would be a healthy rivalry akin to boxing’s Anthony Joshua and Wladimir Klitschko’s.
However seen as Bruma is as Peggy Mitchell used to say, “Family!” I’m sure we’d be respectful and in the end loving towards each other. First there was the Eastenders Mitchell’s, then the Emmerdale Dingle’s and now the Chelton dogs! I’m off the get myself a passport and a plane ticket to Palma airport, Bruma and I are going to have some fun terrorising her manor together!


So our kitchen refit is now all complete. Yes, you can all put on the party tunes, put up the banners and let off the party poppers! I’m going to give a paw shaped round of applause to my long suffering family and especially my Granny, who because of Grandpa’s work commitments had to deal with most of the communication issues along the way. I must say she did ask for a few more bottles of wine to be brought home by Grandpa, for purely medicinal purposes of course. I even caught tee-total Mama J eyeing up the gin bottle throughout the process as well.
   Anyway the Mayor couldn’t attend the grand unveiling to cut the rope, so we ended up having a more quiet (well apart from my barking) affair when we invited two of our neighbours around for a peek and a lovely afternoon of coffee and cake, oh yes lots of wonderful cake! To shut me up in my Everhot cooker excitement, I even got a taster of the sponge and it was delicious. I will give the people who run our village shop an outstanding review for their sponge making skills.

Now the job is complete I can tell you a little more of the funny parts of refitting the kitchen. Let’s put it this way I can now see why house design programmes such as Grand Designs and George Clarke’s Amazing Spaces really do make entertaining and informative viewing. With the issues that even our small property threw up such as uneven flooring, I can see why there is always someone having a near nervous breakdown midway through the show.
   We also had to contend with the fact that our Kitchen Fitter’s native language wasn’t English and they were also deaf. We all were astounded and amazed how he worked around these problems to get the outstanding results on our kitchen.
   We found there was always a major problem when Grandpa was safely away at work and it was usually when we sat down to watch our guilty pleasure of The Real Housewives Of Cheshire on an afternoon. One of the housewives would be having a go at Dawn Ward and then there would be a tap on the living room door. When Granny went to see what the problem was there was no one there. Was our Kitchen Fitter a closet child playing the knock on the door and run away game?
   On one occasion we didn’t have enough floor tiles and seen as our man couldn’t communicate with the flooring specialists my family had previously used, Granny had to drive him to their outlet and articulate what we were wanting. Peter Kay could use this tale in the next series of Car Share if he likes, Granny wouldn’t mind! Mama J and I thought when they were driving off into the sunset together in Granny’s Mini Cooper S, she was perhaps doing a Shirley Valentine and running off with her new toy boy. She too would have to talk to the wall for a chat should the need arise. One morning Granny in her vain hope of trying to communicate her requirements to our Kitchen Fitter was heard saying, "Mañana. Mañana." Not only was he deaf but he wasn't Spanish either, so there was no wonder he had a confused look on his face. 
Anyway I’m sure you’ll all agree that the results are stunning and I can say with full enthusiasm that the new Everhot cooker really does warm my bum up a treat when I’m stood in front of it. I’m happy that I now know the whereabouts of my water bowl, as it kept moving every day throughout the process and that I’ve found the new hiding hole of my food. It’s all change here but it sure does keep me on my paws and claws.
Right folks seen as Granny and Grandpa are away next week visiting family, I’m being left with the task of keeping Mama J in line. As this is going to take up all of my skill set, I’ll be back in a few weeks time to dish the dirt on her naughtiness. 


So I’m pleased to announce that I’m fully better and absolutely fighting fit after my virus the other week. Go me! With my newly found zest for life renewed by my illness. Yes, I know it was just a tummy bug but I’m going for a dramatic epiphany moment here, so please play along with me. Following my poorly belly I’m now looking for love! It’s what we all want right? I’m no exception to this rule and after my brush with death (more drama) I feel the time is now to carpe diem/seize the day and go after what I want romance wise.
   I know I have my two boys Watson and Billy from down the road and although they are both extremely handsome, they are more play mates than anything else. What I am after is someone totally on my wave length and someone who knows the trials, tribulations and rigours of living in the public eye. A man who is comfortable with social media and its many trappings. I think I may have just found him!

This wonderful chap seems more than confident in front of the camera and with having the spotlight shone brightly on his wet little nose. My only concern is that he lives in a notoriously dangerous area of Manchester. 
   Now as you all know I’m originally from a mean and badass city environment myself. However my paws have gotten so used to walking the rural pathways. I just don’t know if I’m altogether street wise enough these days to contemplate a long distance relationship with someone who lives in such a scary area. His street is a hive of criminal activity as well as there being a tram crash there a few years back. I suppose I’m only small and I can move quite quickly, so evading the next speeding vehicle hopefully won’t be too much of a problem for me. There is just the matter of all these murders on one road alone since 9th December 1960 and the fact that his newly adopted family did bury a body under their annexe. Mind you the press said he was a gangster and there were extenuating circumstances. So paws crossed I should be safe then?
Anyway I must tell you more about David, the new love of my life. I spotted him a few weeks back when Mama J was watching the television and my eyes nearly popped out of my head, he’s just scrumptious as Mary Berry would put it. He is an absolutely gorgeous Yorkshire Terrier just like me. Tick, there’s one thing we have in common already! He was gifted in a will to his new owner, also named David. His previous owner had liked David so much when he did her hair at his salon she named her precious dog after him. What a lovely chap David the person must be! Surely he wouldn’t call his Mum by her first name, Gail all the time and once throw her down the stairs. He wouldn’t cover up a murder or scar an innocent lady as he tried to drive a car full of petrol to a court building, in the hope of blowing it up and mortally injuring another man. Poor Anna what did she ever do to David?

So if you haven’t guessed already I’m more than a bit smitten with David the dog on Coronation Street. Although my family are getting worried as I keep going on Mama J’s Facebook and typing in Coronation Street just to see the latest images of him. When I’m not doing that I’m watching the last weeks episodes on repeat just to get a fleeting glance of him and his cute Yorkshire Terrier features. I’ve even found the pause and rewind buttons on the remote control so I can take in his full splendour, over and over again! I now know how all these teenage girls felt about One Direction when they were in their prime. Oh he does make my heart flutter!
   I’m thinking of writing him a love letter to tell him how I feel and also what I can offer in terms of my dazzling, carefree and funny personality. Not to mention my social standing, as I’m a girl who can handle publicity as well as offer him support with all his media attention too. I also feel I can offer him sanctuary if living with the Platt’s eventually gets too much for him. I would hate for my poor love David to be in any danger.
Right folks I’m off to beautify myself for 7.30pm and 8.30pm should I catch a glimpse of the lovely David in tonight’s double bill. Although I do think they maybe concentrating on who pushed stalwart Ken Barlow down the stairs!


Now remember my diva turn last time I blogged. “Which one?” I hear you all cry. Okay you all thought I was getting too big for my Yorkshire Terrier pawed booties. Well, a lot can happen in just under a week. Especially with regard to my stomach!
   It turns out that I wasn’t being rude to my food at all. Sorry to my usual very expensive (so Mama J tells me) brand of dog food but just like the Loreal television commercials says, “I’m worth it!” and of course so are you, you scrumptious bowl full of yummy delight! Think I’ve just about managed to excuse myself for turning my hog up at my dinners.
On Monday we (that is my collective family) all thought that I was over my strop and turning back to the light/good side of eating all of my breakfasts and dinners up once more. However the evil that was lurking in my gut had other ideas on Tuesday morning. This evil was pure demonic and bubbled in my belly like hell on earth. Oh I’m quite good at creating dramatic effect. Perhaps a role on Line Of Duty’s writing team could beckon? Although I don’t know whether my nerves could take it even if I was in the “know” twisting plot wise.
   Granny put my bowl of grub out and I didn’t surface from my bed, which is in fact a shared bed between Granny, Grandpa and I. We like to keep it cosy in our house! Granny decided to take me out (Paddy McGuinness sadly was not included and we just went down the lane not to the Isle Of Fernando's) for my walk and then try me with a bit of breakfast when we got back. 
   On my return I still didn’t want any of my usual food so Granny decided rice and chicken was the order of the morning. To us doggie folk rice and chicken is like a human having chicken soup or in Mama J’s case a chucky egg and soldiers when we’re ill. It’s meant to be good for the stomach.
   I managed to keep it down and at lunchtime I was hassling Granny for more rice. She obliged in giving me a little bit more before my afternoon walk and all was going well until we got part way down the road with my new friend Bentley and then… Blurrrrr! I was sick again. Granny gave my apologises to Bentley’s Mum and assured her that I wasn’t hungover at 4.20 in the afternoon. I might be a social media starlet but Mama J’s non rock and roll lifestyle really has rubbed off on me far too much. I might throw my toys around the living room but no televisions have ever gone through any windows!
   Once we got home I had mad fit on the sofa, rolling around, legs akimbo and then I ended up having a proper fit when I got so excited at seeing our neighbour walking down her driveway. Honestly the things that make me go all peculiar. Yes, my back legs just gave way and I began to tremble. My seizure only lasted a few moments and Granny’s voice, cuddles and love soothed me through it all. 
   Granny had to tell Mama J when she got home from work and then Grandpa when he got in too and it was decided (they do an awful lot of deciding in my house) that if I wasn’t right in the morning that I was off to the Vets.
That night I was like a Jack In The Box jumping on and off the bed. I’d go sit on the landing and at one point ran down the stairs and waited at the back door for Granny to let me out to be sick again. My stomach was moaning and groaning like a scene from the Fifty Shades Of Grey movies (oh I’m being blue today) and I still didn’t want my breakfast on Wednesday morning. Decisive action was taken and I was off to the Vets that afternoon.
   When we arrived the Veterinary Nurse was sorting out the rotas for the afternoon clinic as the morning clinic was abandoned due to all the Vets being called out on an emergency. After being given the name of three Vets that would be seeing me, (I hope they weren’t drawing straws in the operating theatre. I’m not that bad now they’ve learnt to muzzle me before giving me the once over) I ended up with a very kindly Vet examining me and he said that he thought I had a virus in my tummy. See I’m not a fickle diva after all. He advised Mama J and Granny to feed me a dessert spoonful of food every couple of hours and see how I got on. He said to do this for the next five days.

Anyway I’m pleased to announce that following my Vets visit I was feeling so much brighter by Thursday evening. I’m now back on my normal eating regime and also managed to gain some extra doggie sausage treats in the process. Result!

Happy Easter, all you lovely people.