Well, I can’t believe it’s three years on Friday since my grand master plan came into full fruition. This plan was to get myself out of the RSPCA’s care and into a loving forever home. Boy did I do it in style when the Chelton’s spotted my picture on the charity’s website! I gave them all a sign of the manipulation that was to come as I danced around them all in the centre’s socialisation room. One by one jumping up at their legs then onto their laps and licking their ears and even making friends with their other extremely amicable pooch, Marble. I was in love with my new, ever so caring family straight away and fortunately for me the feeling was very much mutual.
Fast forward three years and sadly we’ve suffered the loss of Marble along the way, however I’ve more than filled the void and provided entertainment and laughter throughout the journey. I have also honed my diva behaviour to fever pitched levels of which I’m going to unashamedly tell you all about right now. Is there a Priest around these parts as I need to go into confessional mode?
My day starts off with a walk that I try in own way to control the length of depending on the temperature and precipitation levels. If it’s too cold then I don’t want to be out too long, as even though I’m wearing a coat fit for a doggie queen I get the shivers. Nobody likes to feel like an iceberg without land being ahoy! Too hot and I end up lapping my tongue out for an hour after my return. Panting too much reminds me of Mama J when Idris Elba comes on the telly! Very uncool Mama J, he’ll never ask you out if you drool like a Bloodhound. Too wet and muddy and my beautiful pedicure (okay I’m a dog and I haven’t had a proper pedicure just yet but hey a trip to a doggie grooming salon could be next on my diva hit list) gets ruined, as I’m licking grit and mess out from between my paws. Think the beach and sand between your toes people and you can feel my daily pain.
Then comes my meal times or should that be my left over tit bits times, where I’ve taken to not leaving the kitchen until the last bit of Fairy Liquid is dried off the dishes. I don’t want to miss a morsel of food do I? I used to go back in the living room and lay on my cushions while the washing up was done but I realised that either staring at the plates or at my biscuits cupboard really does get me the most wonderful results. These are akin to that of the treats that the winning team on The Apprentice gets from Lord Sugar.
Also one of Mama J and Granny’s favourite meals is sharing portion of nachos with lots of yummy melted cheese on top. Now cheese is something that I’ve become increasingly partial too over the years I’ve lived here. So much so that as soon as I hear the sound of the fridge door go followed by the rustle of the tin foil wrapping I have to be in attendance in the kitchen, just to see if my charms work with Granny to get my lips round a tasting of grated Double Gloucester.
On an evening I’ve also taken to trying to muscle my staff off my favourite cushions whilst we sit and watch the soaps on TV. I could actually take part in WWE as my nose is that good at wrestling Mama J from the right hand side of the sofa. I’ll have to think of a suitable wrestling superstar name. Answers on a postcard people if you can come up with anything interesting.
At bedtime I’ve started causing problems for my family if my bedroom routine is thrown off course by their ill preparedness. Mama J goes upstairs and prepares for bed, however if she isn’t quite in bed ready for me to run in at 10pm, then I show my full on disgust by leaving the room and sitting at the top of the landing crying. Also if Granny doesn’t follow me upstairs and decides to stay down to watch the end of a programme, then follows another stroppy moment that would make Kevin and Perry look angelic.
Once I’ve left Mama J’s room and I’m on Granny and Grandpa’s bed for the duration of the night I demand cuddle time with my favourite member of my family, Grandpa. Now if Granny wishes to interfere with this moment then I give her a fight winning standoff stare. I become the female equivalent of Anthony Joshua at a pre-boxing match weigh in or Clint Eastwood in his Dirty Harry heyday.
So that’s it for my confessional and for next year I think my resolution has to be that I’ll be even more effective in getting what I want in the cutest manner possible. So to my gorgeous family, expect even more jumping up legs and onto your laps followed by lashing of ear licks. I know you love me and feel safe in the knowledge that you wouldn’t have me any other way.