IT WAS HARRY!

Last Monday my Granny and Grandpa went into the local city centre for a spot of retail therapy and Mama J went for a girlie morning filled with coffee, cake and a good old dose of putting the world to rights with her pals. I was not included in either of these two missions, so I threw a strop and did something more militant than The British Army all over the dining room floor!
   Two hours and twelve minutes after Mama J, just like Elvis left the building she returned home. Knowing what I’d done I thought I’d better show more enthusiasm than usual I dived up at her legs several times, catching her face with my tongue as she bent down to cuddle me. Once she had given me my, on entering the house periodic treat, she turned around to see wet yellow liquid all over the stone floor. “Elsie whose done this?” She asked in my general direction, which was now down the hallway to where I’d scurried. Now I had to think quickly on my paws so as not to get myself in trouble, especially since Mama J had an unhappy look on her face by this point. I replied in my Yorkshire Terrier way, “It was Harry.” I must explain that I haven’t acquired a new furry friend named Harry in the past two weeks. As if any other animal is getting their paws anywhere near my front doormat, never mind over the threshold of it. No, Harry was my Great Grandpa J’s imaginary friend who he used to entertain Mama J with when she was a child. Harry got the blame for Great Grandpa J knocking the Cornetto from Mama J’s hands on an afternoon walk, then for getting them lost for hours on end resulting in a severe case of sun stroke! I figured that surely Harry could take the blame for my wee Monday morning misdemeanour. Great Grandpa J and his Harry were seen as an eccentric “pairing” back in 1988 but these days I reckon Great Grandpa J might have been offered cognitive behavioural therapy at least for creating such a naughty character to blame his entertaining antics on.
   Anyway Harry went down a storm with Mama J as my very sharp and witty answer rewarded me with a large cuddle and another walk that afternoon. She’s such a soft touch. I thank my family for telling me tales of Harry, as he got me out of a sticky and awkward spot there.

Mama J got her own back on me. Don’t worry folks she didn’t pee pee on the floor then make me clear it up. No, it was a far worse “treat” than that. Her and Grandpa took me to the Vets for my booster and I was on a warning to be on my best behaviour before we got there. This was all because Granny had heard a rumour that veterinary royalty had joined the practice, this was in the form of Julian Norton from The Yorkshire Vet.
   I was given an extra brush before I went to make sure I was presentable and camera ready should a film crew be in attendance when we arrived. Sure enough when we got into the waiting room there were signs all around the reception area saying that Channel 5 were filming there that day and to call a telephone number if you didn’t wish to be filmed. Mama J and Grandpa looked at each other and then gritted their teeth in anticipation of a microphone being thrust in their faces. However there was no camera crew in sight at the point in which I entered the treatment room and was greeted by a lady Vet and not the star of the show, Julian. Honestly I want a refund, they told me this was my big television break! First The Yorkshire Vet then five nights a week on Emmerdale! I’ve been bloody robbed of stardom!
   Once in the room the Vet tried her best to make “friends” with me. However as I’ve told you before I think The Speakman’s need to be given a call to try and sort out my PTSD teeth related traumas before I ever make mates with any Vets. She tried to offer me a biscuit which I turned my nose up at and then she tried coming at me from behind Grandpa’s back with the needle to see if she could quickly inject me with my inoculation without me even realising. All attempts failed and I had to be Hannibal Lecter-ed in the end with an extremely fetching muzzle. Once she’d given me my jab I gobbled up the biscuit that Grandpa had placed on the floor in front of me and then ran towards the door for freedom.
   As we were leaving the Vets we saw a pick-up truck with a few people stood around taking notes and then yes you’ve guessed it, Julian was there giving a speech to these people who were obviously student Vets. Mama J and Grandpa rushed me up the road as in the back of the truck was a sheep that they thought I might “start on”. Well, anything to get on the telly! Any publicity good or bad is fine by me in my quest for fame!



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