Thoughts of Gorgeous George


If you haven’t had a read of Steve Stacker’s blog, It is just you, eveything is not shit! then go take a gander. Steve’s blog (and book) is in response to the book by Steve Lowe and Alan McArthur Is it Just Me, or is Everything Shit? Well I’m with Steve Stacker. Actually the world is an amazing and wonderful place, with great things happening to and for millions of people. But we don’t get to hear about that do we? For some reason the media thinks that the only things worth reporting are deaths, destruction and disease. That’s why Tina and I don’t watch the news anymore. It skews our perception of reality and there is a whole other side to the coin that doesn’t get reported. Let’s get with the revolution and start appreciating the good things that happen in the world; that way we might encourage and create more of them!

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 I just thought I’d share this fabulous portrait of Tina and me. Of course she was rather troublesome during the shoot… wouldn’t sit still and wouldn’t look at the camera but then Nicola Gaughan (fabulous photographer http://iconiccreative.smugmug.com/) said something about a Chrysler Crossfire (or was it rabbits?) and click, we were captured. I think she got my best side.

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According to Anna-Marie Solowji, Beauty and Health Director at Vogue ‘The fashion pack go nowhere without their pedigree chums – and the Jack Russell is the breed of choice’.

Therefore I am in fashion… and I guess that means Tina is too! 

We are in good company it seems, Jacks are favoured by miliner Philip Treacy, the legendary Karl Lagerfeld, Prince Charles and Goldie Hawn. Litereary greats William Faulkner and Tom Wolfe also owned Jack Russells.

A Jack has even been featured on the cover of Vogue, shot, apparently, by Peter Lindbergh. Hopefully the only shooting was with a camera!

george.jpg       Taking a break from table dancing.

I’m somewhat unsure about Strictly Come Dancing. Apart from enduring Brucie’s jokes that get worse in every programme (perhaps I should offer myself as script writer, I couldn’t do any worse), it has advantages for a small dog. While Tina is fixated by swivelling hips and fancy footwork, there is an outside chance that she will drop her biscuit in excitement then let me clean up her crumbs.

However, there is a down side. Suddenly I am required to dance!  Now being a dog of Queen Anne legs and small stature, I might be built for the Jive, but the Foxtrot, definitely not. To me slow, slow, quick quick, slow means find a smell, chase a smell, stop and pee on it, then off again. But here I am scooped up, and whisked around the sitting room like a babe in arms being rocked violently to sleep.  

What is a dog to do? The waltz makes me dizzy, the salsa makes me sick, the staccato head whipping in the tango sends me cross-eyed and I dread the American Smooth. All those lifts – I was never meant to be that far off the ground! But the Pasa Doble!! Well actually I make quite a good bull to Tina’s cape. We do have some fun with that, and at least I can stay on the floor.  10! 10! 10! 10! Ole!