Gail

- by TJam

Gail is my dog training teacher. She likes to make sarcastic remarks in lessons in the hope that they will get reported back on this blog. I have always worked on the dog training principle of "ignore the undesirable behaviour and reward the desired behaviour". I apply this to people too (but not to cats because you can't ignore a mouse running down towards your duvet at 3am even though it definitely qualifies as "undesirable").

If I mention Gail's sarcastic remarks, I will be rewarding them and they will continue. Statistically I therefore put myself at risk from public humiliation. If I ignore them they will get more intense in an effort to get them blogged. Same problem. What a dilema.

So, I am going to train an alternative. We need to think of a catchphrase for Gail. Leave your suggestions here. Currently in the lead is, "I said SIT, there was no "h" in it". We had a fairly dramatic additional h this evening. It certainly made me glad I feed dry food (less bulk, as they say).

Now Gail, you can work on your catch phrase. (and you'd better leave me a comment!)

A Different Tack

- by Beanz

After TJam had dragged herself out from the cupboard under the stairs, huffing, "I'm *&^ing sick of this. Either catch it and eat it or DON'T CATCH IT but don't *&^%ing play with it", she decided to take a different tack. Perhaps Carlsberg needs to be asked nicely. She hadn't thought of that.

There was much searching of paper and a thick felt tip pen. Blue tack was vital for the plan (other sticky putties are available).

And here I am trying to examine the finished result. There will be no more mice in this house.

Vacuum Mania

Thank you to my dad who has given me a new vacuum.

I can't believe I am excited about this, but this new super duper all singing all dancing Dyson (yes DYSON!) sucks so hard it took me 20 seconds to unstick it from the floor. Unfortunately the momentum nearly took it into Chips' head. She now has a healthy respect for my housework.

I have hoovered 3 times since yesterday. It is so much fun. And I don't need a new stair carpet. There was a perfectly good one under the woven cat hair layer. Yipee.

Back to normal

I have just waved Mum off at the station. She has been staying for a week, and looked after the dogs while I went to away for the weekend. She has washed everything. It's ok though, I have dirtied a few plates and scattered a few crumbs and it is starting to look just like home again :)

Resting

I went back to the vet this evening. He thinks I have injured my elbow. I am allowed out of the house now, after a week of resting, but I have to stay on the lead for another 2 weeks. Then, I have to build up my walks again. He has stopped my tablets, which is a shame because they were delicious.

Mousy Conclusion

The best case scenario happened.

The mouse is liberated.

It ate all the peanut butter first and had to be shaken out of the trap. Seems it didn't want to leave.

Mousy Un-Fun

By TJam

I am a bit tired this morning. The cat started jumping around the house at about 3.30am. I thought nothing of it.

5:03am I thought I felt Carlsberg's tail brush against my face. When I reached up to feel, there was no body, no legs and no head. In fact, there was no Carlsberg at all. There was also a noise of something small running over my pillow and past my ear. It sounded like a jumpjet.

5:24am The trap is set and full of peanut butter. I can only assume the mouse is camped out under my immovable wardrobe. Best case scenario: the mouse saunters into the trap and I release it. Worst case scenario: The mouse spends several nights dancing on my bed, gets trapped under my covers, chews through my electrics, then, weak with hunger and thirst, it retires under my wardrobe where it carks it and the smell permeates the whole house for weeks. I have a nervous breakdown.

Mousy Fun

By Carlsberg

Last night, I brought TJam home a lovely present. My intention was to bring it home, play with it a while to let everyone join in the fun, then make my kill and eat it. The present was a delicious field mouse.

TJam tried to sleep through phases one and two of the plan. I pounced up on the window ledge and over the bed. Then my plan went horribly wrong.

My mouse was a fighter. It got away. I waited for a while, but I had built up quite an appetite. I got bored waiting for my mouse and went and had some crunchy fish and rice instead. There was still no sign of my mouse, so I went out to play in the fields again.

Anyway it's the thought that counts. I am sure TJam will be pleased, even if she didn't get to see me eat the prize.

Touching Toads (but not licking them)

TJam has been watching a lot of "Panic Room" a tv programme where people overcome their phobias. She has got a bit of a thing about frogs and toads, ever since someone put a frog in a jar behind her in Mrs Honour's Top Infants class. When she looked up, there was a froggy face, doing bulgy froggy things. It made her scream and jump which everyone found hilarious.

Today, there was a toad in the field. TJam made herself touch its back. She told her hand to go forwards and it went backwards of its own accord, so she had to push it forwards with her other hand. I made it my business to run through the therapy session and prance around so the toad could move and make it all the more scary.

Actually toads are quite soft and warm. TJam thanked the toad for helping her, and went on her way, singing and shouting, "I've touched a frog!" as she went. Because she thought at the time it was a frog, and she has only just realised that it ran and didn't jump. And it was a bit bumpy, so it must have been a toad.

In other news, Beanz has got a bad leg and is not allowed to walk. I am enjoying quality time with TJam and am behaving like an angel. Beanz is such a bad influence.

Double-busting

Double-busting (dubble-bust-ing) vb Action carried out by two boobs when they are squeezed into a bra cup that is too small, so it looks like you have four boobs instead of only two.

This is not yet in the Collins Dictionary.

Thank you to Gill in the lingerie department of M&S, who has shown me the light. All this without humiliating me. For all my bravado, it is a little intimidating to stand in a changing cubicle with a stranger with a tape measure. She treated me well, and I have learnt, after 20 years in the wildernerss, that it is possible to have a bra that is comfortable. I step forward into a new level of being.

If one other person reads this and resolves to "be fitted" this post will have been worth it. And of course, if we have another feminist revolution, I will have something to burn.

Scarecrow Festival

The humans went to the local scarecrow festival. There were plenty of scarecrows: dog types, jockies, burglars, policement, fishermen, the mayor, a vicar, two footballers, people taking tea outside the sweetshop and a couple of random characters. Or they may have been locals who had just finished a shift in the hay barn.

There are no photos because there was too much rain. Sorry Kath, who I know will be checking here. You will have to use your imagination. Hopefully next year we can provide the real thing...

Pipkins anyone?

As it was time to leave work, I stood up and said, "It's time......" which set off a flashback of clock faces flashing in front of my eyes and a vaguely uneasy feeling. As I let the experience wash over me, I remembered Hartley Hare, Octavia, and Pig (who had a Brummie accent and what I now know to be hypernasility).

When I got home, I googled Hartley Hare and discovered that my memory was that of Pipkins, the children's tv programme, which I watched during the 70s. It's not often one that pops up in those, "do you remember...." conversations.

I was feeling a little nervous as I scrolled down the page. Hartley Hare used to make me jump and frankly, I admit it, I was scared of him. Scared in that excited kind of way. No, who am I kidding? I was terrified.

When I saw the pictures, a steel dagger twisted in my heart. And is it any wonder?! look at the hare! look at the MONKEY. I'd clearly blocked the Monkey out of my mind and I wish is had stayed that way.

If you want to share my experience, click here and scroll down. If you remember Pipkins, please leave me a comment.

(Die hard fans can look at the Official Pipkins site. There's more information, but less barefaced terror).

Waffles

Today the humans had waffles for breakfast.

Bamgee showed TJam how to use the family waffle iron. It is 40 years old and still going strong.

Here is TJam on her virgin waffle voyage. What a historic moment. Or should that be histrionic?

Happy Birthday Barney!

Barney Rubble is 16 years old! Happy birthday friend.

To be Sung to...

... the tune of 5 green bottles.

5 wild bird fat balls, sitting on the fridge
5 wild bird fat balls, sitting on the fridge
And if 5 wild bird fat balls, fell upon the floor
There's be 4 wild bird fat balls, sitting on the floor.

The mystery of this song is not "where is the 5th fat ball" to which the answer by now is, "in the field, having passed through Chips's gastrointestinal tract" but indeed, "how did the fat balls fall off the fridge in the first place?"

And that, dear reader, is the real mystery.

Pulling it out of the Bag

All that revision paid off. Chips clearly knew it was a special occasion and she really pulled it out of the bag. Walked past two cats on our road walk, wagged her tail at the examiner and (most importantly) didn't get into a fight with her arch enemy. Ok, one of her arch enemies. I'd go so far as to say she enjoyed showing off.

Chips, I'm proud of you. Chips the dog my dad thought I should get rid of because she was too naughty (and Beanz, you can wipe that smug face off your muzzle because he thought you should go back to the dogs' home too).

So Chips is now officially a silver citizen. I will carry her certificate around in case we bump into her other arch enemy and I need proof that she can pull it out of the bag.

Revision

TJam is reading something over and over again. Chips is practising a recall without getting up BEFORE she is called. Something is going on.

Wardrobe - part 3

The wardrobe delivery men arrived today. I had asked for an afternoon delivery so they came at 7.15am.

"Can you put it upstairs please?"

"Sorry love, we can't go upstairs"

"Pardon?"

"We can't go upstairs"

"Well, what do you do in your own house?"

"I mean, health and safety, we're not allowed upstairs"

So here is a picture of my front room.

Of course it is fine for me to take everything upstairs. On pure fury alone I carried a wardrobe unit upstairs and assembled it there and then. But then my adrenaline started to run low and I went back to human levels of strenth and had to phone FlatPack4U to come and help me out with the rest.

Best Before

I am just posting here before writing to Norris McWhirter's people.

Today, TJam had toast and buttered it with margarine that was best before 23rd August 2006. It was totally fine. Is this a record?

What's worse than...

... finding a worm in your apple?

No, actually that's another joke, and a funny one at that.

Today, TJam took our water bowl from the front room, emptied the dregs and filled it from the kitchen tap. When she put it back down again, there were 2 slugs in it. A medium slug and a small slug.

Either they came into the front room and climbed into the bowl, or else they came out of the tap.
So, which is worse?