So Saturday mornings walk was an adventure of scary sized proportions as it actually managed to make my hair stand on end. Mind you that doesn’t take too much doing as I shake my head and look like Tina Turner, most mornings right after Granny’s given me a brush. I was like Mama J at the end of the Thriller video. You know the moment when the loud man (it sounds very loud in a nightclub setting so Mama J tells me, although I’m such a home bird (sorry pooch) that I’ll have to take her word for it. Also I don’t see myself getting passed any Doorman due to my small stature and youthful good looks) laughs and she goes into full on panic mode? It’s a sight to behold I can tell you. Folks if you are throwing a Halloween party ever and you invite Mama J please remember to play that song either before she arrives or after she’s left. We don’t want a melt down over the bobbing apples do we?
Anyway my meltdown happened as Grandpa and I strolled up to the tree just at the bottom of our road. Grandpa let my extendible lead go loose for me to go look around the tree in an anti-clock wise motion (the devil’s in the detail my friends) just as coming in a clock wise motion (are you still with me here folks with the clock settings? No one please reply, “I use a digital clock” though as it will ruin my story) was a squirrel! We both jumped out of our skins as if we’d been plugged into the national grid and had had a surge of power running through our veins and then Grandpa jumped too for good measures and in a slight moment of panic at what might happen next.
As all three of us collected our thoughts, the squirrel and I were still nose to nose (now this is a new animal to be “friends” with) and it was a moment of who would blink first. It was the squirrel as he turned his body by 180 degrees and shot up the tree to a good vantage point on a branch far enough away from my possible baying lips.
I stood astounded for a minute at what had just happened and was only pulled out of my squirrel based trance by Grandpa trying to move me on from the tree. However by this point I wanted to know where that bloody squirrel had gone off to and why he didn’t want to be my “friend”?
We continued our walk down the lane but on our way back I was still affronted by the squirrels bad manners (okay I might have wanted to eat him eventually but I didn’t give off too much of those vibes initially) at my kind offer of friendship. Honestly the natural world isn’t what it used to be or how it’s depicted in The Jungle Book!
On Thursday evening Granny couldn’t be bothered with cooking dinner and seen as my family were going to see our former neighbours in their new home (we still don’t know why they would ever not want to live next door to us anymore) they decided take-away fish and chips were the order of the evening.
About half an hour after devouring the fish and chips Mama J went upstairs to re-touch her makeup and Granny and Grandpa did the washing up. As they were finishing the dishes Granny’s belly started cramping and she thought she’d better go to the toilet. Okay folks that is as vulgar as it gets as this isn’t toilet humour we are plugging here, I’d never be so crude about my very lady like Granny either.
Anyway the next thing for poor Granny after her failed mission in the toilet was to roll around the bed with her legs tucked up to her tummy to try and make herself comfy and ease the excruciating pain she was now in.
Grandpa was like the male equivalent of Florence Nightingale, think a younger version of Casualty’s Charlie Fairhead as he ran glasses of water, Gaviscon and pain relief up and down the stairs. At one point he thought he was going to have to call a proper Doctor out (his characterisation of Charlie Fairhead really wasn’t up to standard) or take Granny to A&E.
In the meantime as Granny was still in a lot of pain the decision was made that my families evening out should be cancelled until this Wednesday evening. As Grandpa rang to tell them why they wouldn’t be coming, Mama J and I sat in the relatives room (our living room doubles up as this in times of worry) with the telly off. We were so worried about poor Granny that we missed the first Emmerdale entirely.
We put the television on as Eastenders started as Charlie sorry Grandpa said Granny was feeling much better and then about half way through the miserable show (come on people it is but doesn’t it make your lives seem so much better) Granny emerged cramp free and as if nothing had happened.
Seen as Grandpa and Mama J were all right with the fish and chips we’ve just put it down to something they were fried in that didn’t agree with Granny’s stomach.
On a positive note though I wasn’t left for the evening while they went galavanting, so every cloud eh?