To set the tone of my day I must have calm and tranquility first thing. I must be able to roll around Granny and Grandpa’s bed until my heart’s content and my hair is stuck up on end. Then I must be allowed to lie back and dream of the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Dales. Diva… who… me? Never!
So you can imagine how angry I was the other morning when I was rudely awaken, not by Blur’s Parklife Dustman (no that’s on a Tuesday morning) but Mama J playing her version of the EastEnders theme tune with her cupboard door and storage box lid for instruments. Then all this crashing and frantic sounding movement was followed by the words, “Can’t bloody find it!” Then again, “No, I can’t bloody find it!” 
   Granny, Grandpa and I had all being awoken from our slumber by this point and to put it bluntly, we’d had enough of Mama J’s drum, base and dulcet tones. Granny enquired as to what was wrong and Mama J loudly replied, “You what? YOU WHAT?” Again Granny asked what was perturbing Mama J and upsetting her morning and Mama J answered in a questioning voice as well, “YOU WHAT?” Grandpa by this point had had enough of what he described as Mama J’s uncouth language and shouted, “I think the word you’re looking for is pardon not you what!” Mama J cheekily replied, “You what?” 
   Once Mama J could hear the rest of the household from her vantage point across the landing she yelled back, “Cotton wool. Cotton wool. Can’t bloody find it!” Granny by this point was exasperated and marched around the landing into Mama J’s bedroom and head dived straight into her cupboard and storage boxes where there was no cotton wool to be found. Mama J clearly had lost her marbles and not her cotton wool, as she never purchased any cotton wool in the first place.

Now this isn’t where this story ends, as Mama J being ever the creative started singing (well if you could call it that) the words, “Can’t bloody find it! Cotton wool! Cotton wool! Can’t bloody find it! You what? YOU WHAT?” All this was done in a Cockney accent. There could be voice over work for Danny Dyer if he wants it. I’ll give him a tweet once I’m done here. To make matters worse Granny then joined in and it became like the battle round on The Voice UK. They were going back and forth like Eminem and his rapping opponent in the film 8 Mile. That or a pair of demented parrots crossed with The Chuckle Brothers. I actually now believe the spirit of Barry Chuckle is inside Mama J and he’s channeling his new material through her!
As a commercially minded pooch the least I feel we could do with this “material” is turn it into a GIF and the most is a full on rap. Let’s go with rap! However I may need a little help producing it as the music industry isn’t my forte yet. I’ve whittled down who to ask to, Kayne West or Simon Cowell and on reflection feel Mr Cowell may be the one to turn mine and Mama J’s dream into a reality. This is because he has three Yorkshire Terriers so there is already an infinite point to start my negotiations from, as I can bribe Squiddly, Diddly and Freddy with doggie chocolate drops should the need arise. Right I’m off to get myself a baseball cap, a gold medallion and sovereign ring so I can dress like I know all about rapping in the 21st century. 


Now is today too late to wish you all a Happy New Year? I reckon I’m doing pretty well with my sentiments as we haven’t quite got to the love-in that is Valentine’s Day and I haven’t see any Easter bunnies hopping around this morning but I’m told on good authority that Creme Eggs are in the shops already. Living in the countryside the chances of seeing nature working at its finest are high so I’m poised to see a rabbit or twenty before the week is out. I’m going to go with the fact that it is still a safe minimum distance in time and say, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
My New Year’s resolution this year is to get some love in my life. I’m not talking the family kind, sorry Mama J, Granny and Grandpa you just don’t apply on my loving hit list. I’m talking the romantic kind where I get wined and dined. Okay so I’m a Yorkshire Terrier and I’m only nine years old, so that makes me under age for the wining part therefore we better stick to a bowl of water when out and about. I’d hate for my blossoming love life to be the cause for someone losing their alcohol licence. 
   This all started on New Year’s Day. I’m one fast worker on the romance front! I was whisked away to the pub in the village by my lovely and extremely handsome friend Watson. My Grandpa and Watson’s Dad decided to go for a beer and this was the perfect opportunity for Watson and I to have our first proper date. I’ve been to his house several times now for playdates with my stud muffin Lurcher/cross but this was a really big deal for us as we could show the whole village that we were “an item”… Oh ah Mrs how exciting!

Firstly we went for a stroll, paw in paw of course around the village and then we followed Grandpa and Watson’s Dad in through the back door of the pub. The two gents ordered their drinks and took a seat each and Watson and I were waited on paw and paw by the lovely lady behind the bar. She brought us over some doggie chocolate biscuits, which we munched on until our hearts were content. Grandpa and Watson’s Dad chatted as I got animated with all of the goings on in the pub. The football was on the telly so it was a lively affair as local team Leeds United were in action. Being a Yorkshire lass you’d think I’d be cheering them on, however coming from Bradford originally I put a hex on them as soon as we walked in the building. Not very sporting I know but you can take a girl out of Bradford City but you can’t take Bradford City out of the girl. Now I’m obviously very good at this voodoo magic malarkey as Leeds lost 4-2 to Nottingham Forest that day. Mama J is pleased to know that I’ve removed my hex against her team, Manchester United and they are back to winning ways with Ole Gunnar Solskjaer at the helm. I reckon he not only has crisps and cake whilst watching games himself but he has incentivised the team by offering them a packet of Walker’s Salt and Vinegar followed by a few of Mr Kipling’s exceedingly good cakes for a win. 
Watson and I enjoyed our rowdy date and I managed not to get myself barred for barking and wagging my tail to much as the ball was flying passed the Leeds Goalkeeper and into the back of the net. However I’ve got a taste for going different places with either my Grandpa or other members of my family.