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.