☆ Here Boy! ☆

I don't normally upload clips from talent shows.  I don't even continue to watch them after the seriously-deluded contestant stages are over.  But even I had to admit that the ultimate winner of this years Britain's Got Talent, really touched me.   Even had me wiping away a tear at the end.

A clever trainer, a clever dog, telling a funny and cleverly structured, touching story.  No need to watch the whole video as it's all just judges comments at the end, but give it at least 3 minutes and I guarantee you you'll have a lump in your throat by then.  Even I, a lifelong cat lover, had to put my feline-biased praises aside for a bit to make way for this little canine star.

  

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Keyed Off!

Working with me sitting close by her side,
not the greatest idea when I'm there for the ride
Inspiring thoughts come, vacillate and then freeze,
when a wet nose pokes skin or drool lands on the keys

Bones last just minutes and toys lose their fun,
how dare she ingore me, I'm her number one!
Try if one must to lock me in the kitchen
I'll howl so hard it'll ruin her diction

What a blessèd idea when there's time that is free
to be out having fun, not stuck on a settee
'One day I'll be famous!'  she tells me ( as if! )
as for now -  there's a park full of mutt-butt to sniff!

I'd try to distract her, and pee on the floor
but I'd have me  'ammonia nose'  (cold and sore!)
Right - I'll give her a half hour and curl for a snooze,
to create she a novel and down all her booze...............

OMG!  She's still at it - the wine bottle's grown -
time to up canine strategy - go at it full blown!
Drag the leash to her, whine loud and whine clear,
'whisper it to her you loud domineer!'

Jump on the cushions, wag tail in the face,
leave a smell so disgusting and lose doggie grace
Bark out the window at each one who'd pass,
till she's thinking more clearly and heads for the grass

I'll scratch myself silly and then lick my bits,
overtly X-rated till she's calls it quits
Or regress to my puppy-hood, give her those eyes,
tilt my head to left,  produce pitchy-high  sighs

Lay my chin on her shoulder, and paw at the screen
to shut off this pointless and useless machine!
All I want is a walk ( and a run at some point )
and selection of posts for my wee to anoint................

YAY!  I've won, she's sucumbed and accepted my lead,
these dogmatic charms making woman concede.
This writing malarky's a waste of a day,
when there's bounding and fetching and fights to waylay.

Wait a minute, what's happened, she's slipped in my bag,
besides balls, treats and poop-scoop and rub-me-down rag
That ruddy computer and bottle of wine
making me a confused and quite jealous canine!

Drop her guard for a minute, lay down that computer - 
I'll try in the muttiest manner to nueter,
the inside and out of such trouble and toils -
leaving it with no letters ( since I'm without balls ).........................

Guess what? I just heard her, she singing my praises,
telling someone about all those things that amazes
Referring to me - I'm her best friend and saviour,
despite my bad habits and odd misbehaviour

She's writing a poem all about me,
for the world and his wife and cute bitches to see
Posting up pictures on the webby-wide-world
a proud Labrador and his loyal pet girl!

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In With The New Spew

This year is to be my positive year.  I'm not your typical resolution sort but I am determined to stick to the plans as much as possible.  Granted, I'm not one for planning way in advance as Lady Luck usually pays an unexpected visit and scuppers things for me by the designated date. If only I kept a diary or journal of my life's complications but the entries may not convince some.  Bridget Jones hasn't the slightest look in.  But (in no particular order) I'm focusing on:

1. Losing a bit more weight.
2. Decorating the bog.
3. Working on a manuscript
4. Buying a mobile.
5. Organizing the biggest charity gig Central Scotland has ever seen.

Number 1 :  I have lost around a stone (through illness) and am now using this as an incentive to diet and kick up a healthier lifestyle. Walking miles is probably the burner I enjoy most but toning up via an ancient leisure book with Mad Lizzy Web (if you remember her) from 1989 does the trick just as well as a local Bannatynes, We-Rob-You-Blind, Gym. Getting down to 10 stone by spring would be dandy!


Number 2:  For almost a year now, I've had to pee in the water boudoir with cement walls staring back at me.  This is a symbolic nightmare if you're a little egg bound. At least with the old wallpaper you could make faces out of if you forgot reading material.  I don't care how big the little room is, he's in for a sizing real soon.


Number 3:  As you (mostly) know, I adore my Magpie Tales and Short Story Slams.  Sadly, not as many old regulars (before joining these popular groups) seem interested in the creative side now posted in my blogs, although I do still get passing comments on everyday/general stuff published from them.  Poetry may just remind them of school days and after a hard day's work who wants reminded of English in Room 35 where old leather-patched arse-bore, Mr. McFeely shoved rhyme and Dickens down your throat till dry-boak bell went!   Even so, I'm liking the thought of putting on paper the mad ideas, storylines and dialogue that flit through my head in perpetual paths at quiet times. My confidence would never seek publication for this but I'd be interested to see how far and where the pen would take me.


Number 4:  You should see the funny looks I get when I reveal that I don't own a mobile phone. Relatives, customer services, application forms ect, presume everyone has one. Four years ago my even-then-hand-me-down number dropped and broke.  I have not replaced it since.  It hasn't made my world any less complicated, it's always going to be shit.  But the only thing I can positively  commend these things for is emergencies.  They're handy for a number of other things too, like turning you into a gofer,  getting tutted at on public transport, losing on public transport, falling into lager glasses, being mugged over,  ghastly ringtones, cheating and infidelity.  I'll leave it another year, (despite the kids offering to buy me one) and see if communicating by other means fails in comparison. If it does, I've matches, sticks and a blanket .


Number 5:  I'm 'thinking' (don't want to use the word PLANNING for now) of holding a massive charity gig.  This time for two causes - Canine Partners and a Pink Ribbon Breast Cancer charity (after my recent scare).  Both my sons' bands would be playing, as well as a few others.  Ideally, I would like an older band to perform, to cater for the age-rangers, but unless an ex-blogger returns and writes here again (and comments!) I may have to personally rip the spot from them and perform myself!


The difference this time would be a more prestigious venue. Canine Partners recently played a charity gig at Gleneagles Hotel (all hired and paid for by some rich car supporter) but a closer to home venue (Central Scotland) is a must!  Perhaps the university hall would do for one of 'these' gigs.  I'd have the help of the other charity organiser this time, so that takes the pressure off a little.  I'll mull things over with my best mate, Liz, (gonna try convince her to go!) at my  birthday bash' in Behind The Wall later on this month.  My sons' bands Hotel India and No Need For Idols (see sidebar for entertainment value) but for now you may want to click on this link for the star of the show who'd be there on the said night too.  


http://helenshere.blogspot.com/2011/11/pup-popstar-and-press.html


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Life's Big (and small) disCRAPancies.

I don't know where some people get off. How some dog owners think it's alright to let their pet drop it's back end, let out a steamy one and then just casually walk away. Abandonment. Some dogs get public praise for it, which is only fair as it's keeping to it's toilet-training bargain side of things but I'm sure if the dog could understand, it'd be appalled. Why is this still going on..?

The park next to my house is a haven for inconsiderate dog owners. The amount of times we mums in the street have had to clean our carpets and prize muck from soles on shoes is unbelievable . It's angering that a kid can't get a slide on a slide or swing on a swing without bringing home feaces on their shoes and clothes. Ironically, as they grew, we parents made sure that our children took turns in picking up litter (while trying to dodge the dollops) and used to get designated duty days.

Sadly, it brings needless shame to the true caring dog owners that live on our street and surrounding area. Even with park bins for the doggy-do to go in, and free poop scoop and bags from the local council, our park is still being abused. And the culprits aren't always busy families with busy lives but older and uppity owners (one with a big car and plenty of golfing time to kill). They'll be toodling off home to a neat garden and stain free carpets. I swear if I knew their addresses I'd post a few neatly tied presents through their letterbox.

The worst one is this retired lady. She has two lovely black Labradors. Mother and daughter. The older one always trails behind but on approaching the park it's arse goes into bowel release mode and it never makes it to the grass in time. It shits as it walks!! I've said to her a couple of times about it and she picked up right away then, but I get real miffed if I see the infamous dollops lying outside my neighbours' path. She knows it can only be her Lab doing this and must pass it on her journey back.

Anyhow, talking of crap, I've prattled on enough. Here's wishing you a happy and squish free walk home wherever you reside.