SOAP DRAMA OF A SUPER SONIC HAIR RAISING VARIETY

Autumn is definitely in the air and oh yes blowing through my freshly cut hair. Granny decided that it was high time I had my quarterly trim and monthly bath. However I did quite enjoy looking like a member of Bon Jovi in the 1980s, crank the music up and I’m living on a prayer with lovely Jon! Now I say monthly bath however I last had one just before my holiday (yes the one that got ruined by Mama J’s childish rocking bed antics that weren’t fresh from the pages of Fifty Shades Of Grey) to the Lake District back in July. Although just so you don’t all think I’m some sort of doggie shampoo dodger, I do have almost daily dips in the kitchen sink just to keep my furry legs and my feminine areas clear of mud and other roadside obscenities. We live in a farming community I’ll let you guess what I’m talking about when I say obscenities. Oh my life is so full of glamour!
Mama J knows it is autumn too as her evening televisual entertainment just got cranked up a few hundred notches. She’s started drawing up a very studious spreadsheet on the computer as her brain is getting frazzled with the planning guide of what to watch and then what to tape. Eh don’t I sound old? Tape, sorry I mean record on the Freeview box. That or I’ll be going old school and getting myself on eBay to look for a Betamax video recorder that looked like something out of Star Wars. Oh with all his fine tutorship my Grandpa must be so proud of the furry granddaughter I’ve become in sourcing antique electrical items for his to reminisce over. Mind you This Morning did do a feature on retro goods and Mama J was tempted to buy herself a Sega Mega Drive to reconnect with Sonic The Hedgehog, as well as her youth.

Eastenders had Mama J’s blood pressure raised all last week with a gas explosion, Johnny getting shot, Jane nearly getting burnt like toast in her own restaurant, Bernadette having a miscarriage, an ambulance crash and oh yes Steven dying! My heart is racing now just typing my paws on this keyboard whilst thinking about the catalogue of disasters that Walford’s suffered. I’m a writer with many storyline ideas but one must think they could’ve saved a few ideas for this weeks episodes, there’s at least a months worth of telly they could’ve spun out there minus the sped up version accompanied by Benny Hill music! Okay so that last bit didn’t happen but was definitely a welcome figment in my imagination amongst all the high drama. 
   Mama J did have an offer of an evening in the village pub but please don’t telling the charming Landlord and Landlady, she turned Granny and Grandpa down to stay in and give me cuddles, which is very kind of her but she also wanted to see what happened next in Hollyoaks and Emmerdale. I like the way she blames it on me and my beautiful face however I know there are devious ulterior motives at play. I love her cheek and forgive though as I got lots of attention that evening while Granny and Grandpa were tasting the pub’s latest delicious curry offerings.

Now I’m signing this off until the beginning of October as Granny and Grandpa are going away to Spain for a glass or two of sangria and leaving me in charge of Mama J and her wellbeing. I need wishing all the luck in the world with this task as you all know what a diva she can be. I’ll be looking longingly at her and whipping her into shape again with my demands of three walks a day. Well, who said there can only be one diva in a household? 


WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF CROCKS

So I have been the healthiest member of my family by an absolute square mile this week. Yes, that’s even with my epilepsy, minus eight teeth mouth and behavioural issues that at times towards other dogs would make the Lucifer look like the Angel Gabriel! Although Your Honour I’m improving walk by walk and day by day. I even managed an even tempered meeting with my arch frenemy yesterday afternoon which sent Granny into glowing raptures of sheer pleasure.
Mama J is still off work with her thyroid issues, violins playing Vivaldi at the ready if you please. Then not to be out done Granny started getting stomach pains and a sickie taste in her mouth. She blamed a dodgy fry up even though Mama J and Grandpa thoroughly enjoyed their eggs, bacons and the works with no ill effects. Ah there’s no accounting for needs of Granny’s fine dining palate.
   She started at about 6am on Wednesday feeling nauseous and went downstairs to get a glass of Diet Coca Cola. Although just to stop me getting sued for my biscuits, I must point out that other brands of coke do apply. There I’ve covered todays legal angle like the doggie version of Ally McBeal. Granny must’ve read a memo or an old wives tale that says fizzy pop is good for a dicky stomach as well as perking up the soul at times. Or is that tea? Anyhow she had her drink and came back to bed to rest with me until it was time for my walk. 
   Grandpa was up for work and had a momentary lapse of brain power (it’s his age, more on that later) and suggested that Mama J would have to walk me when she was up and dressed. Ah the only problem with that was that Mama J had been taking until lunchtime to settle her palpitations down and even if I promised to be on my best behaviour barking and bouncing wise the actual walking part of the walk might have caused an issue. Grandpa would probably have done his days work and gotten home by the time we ventured down the driveway.
   Granny had to go for it! She like Obi-Wan Kenobi was my only hope of feeling the breeze blowing through my wild hair and starting on other pooches in the area. Granny and I went gingerly down the road. She hoped we wouldn’t run into George Clooney as she was make-up less with her hair unwashed and looking a bit green around the gills. We made it out and back then Granny had to straighten Mama J’s bed before crawling into her own slumber for the day. Yes, folks at thirty-seven years and counting Mama J requires assistance with making up a bed properly. Now Granny does have exceptionally high standards, remember we did rename her Mrs Patmore but I don’t feel that chamber maiding would ever be a fine career choice for Mama J. The bed looked more ruffled with Mama J’s attention added than when she had just got out of it!
   With the bed sorted out and Granny safely tucked up and resting it was left to me to be quiet for the rest of the day. Have you ever heard of the Bjork song It’s Oh So Quiet? Now instead of loud musical instruments playing a merry tune when it got to the part where Bjork yells, “And so peaceful until!” I gave my best barking version of the jolly song, every time anybody meandered passed the living window. This was followed by Mama J’s dulcet tones going, “Elsie be quiet! Granny’s not well!” Fortunately for me poor Granny was asleep and undisturbed for most of the day and felt a lot better when she got up in the early evening.

Grandpa, not to be outdone by his girls went off to his karate class and his back told him he wasn’t as young as he thought. He was doing break kicks on the floor or was it meant to be a reenactment of Run-DMC’s It’s Like That video? Break kicking or break dancing it doesn’t really matter as today my Grandpa is a broken man with a broken back. Okay I might be exaggerating a little but you’ve got to play for the drama right? Mama J suggested pilates as a calmer alternative for muscular exercise rather than training to be the next Mr Miyagi. I think it definitely might be safer as the poor man is having trouble walking, standing, sitting and lying down right now! Oh to be young again eh Grandpa? So I’ve got my paws crossed and I’m thinking positive thoughts that we will have reached a turning point in the house of crocks. That or I’ll be looking online for a nurses uniform.