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.