Mr. Alex suggested that I use my camera fingy to take some video footage of the pooch.
Mr. Cheeks loves the snow sadly it’s not as deep as it was a couple of weeks ago because it’s quite a spectacle watching him fearlessly tunnel and dive into it.
So without further ado:
CHICO IN THE SNOW
A Jack Walters Production.
Bathed the scamp today; he was filthy from playing out in all the snow.
Wish I had a camcorder to record him running around like he is at the moment!! A White blur!!
Here is Chico modelling this season’s must-have Christmas jumper.
Mr. Cheeks likes a cuddle at precisely 7pm; he either jumps up into my Antikrish sized armchair, or asks to be lifted onto my bed.
Being a rather tactile person, I understand the importance of this; although it’s a shame that I can’t reproduce the funny happy grunts and sighs that he makes when he snuggled into me really tightly.
Lorraine took these photos of Chico trying to get Paul’s attention; “that’s ma boy!!!”.
I’ve been doing overtime over the weekend; thought I’d earn some extra shillings for the Boxing Day sales. Yes, I know I’m a typical ‘stani…..
Luckily I’ve had Cheeks keeping me company; he’s like a hot water bottle and has kindly kept my legs warm, although he’s crap on Microsoft Excel and bites my keyboard!
The little fella has certainly grown in the month that we’ve had him; another week and he can go for walkies!!!
Chico (Aka Mr Cheeks) is very insistent on his cuddles; I rather like this as I too am of the same disposition.
I have to get up a little earlier for work each day to facilitate his morning cuddle; and then I get home from work at around 6pm, take off my bike gear, let him out in the garden for a mooch and then up to my bed for the daily 7pm snooze and cuddle.
He’s quite literally like a little hot water bottle and snuggles right into me.
1……..2……..3………Ahhhhhhh. <—-I got a bit OCD there with the amount of full stops between the numbers. Help?
Chico has come a long way in a short space of time and is settling in nicely!. I’m looking forward to taking him out for walks when he gets his injections done in a couple of weeks time!
The dubious nature of Chico’s previous ownership was often reflected in his behaviour; especially during the first 48 hours of his arrival. When we first got him he’d often cower after a toilet malfunction (there was a few!) to the point of shaking on the spot, I also got the impression that he had to fight for the owners scraps due to the way he initially went frantic around food.
The farmer/breeder who had him originally threatened to ‘shoot him’ if our mutual friend didn’t deliver him to a new home; I dread to think what he had to put up with. I’d love to meet this guy and give him a knuckle sandwich.
The change in 6 days has been incredible; he now ‘asks’ to go out in the garden to “do his business” (such a funny expression I’m sure you’ll agree?) and enjoys regular mealtimes. He’s still got a way to go though, he often gets quite bitey when he’s excited and I’ve been stamping out that particular behaviour by putting him down onto the floor and ignoring him. He doesn’t like those apples let me tell you!
When he first arrived, he was spindly and quite uneasy on his legs. Now, he’s steady and fast as lightening; he already fetches his tennis ball on command. Think he’s going to be a very clever dog!
I’ve spent most of the weekend playing with him and relaxing; relaxation has been a rare commodity in my life of late because of all the overtime that I’ve been doing. Thought I’d pop some more pictures below which pretty much sum up how cozy he is here.
Feel free to make soppy mushy noises.
I think it’s fair to say that my stormy relationship with Mum has improved a great deal of late; I’ve come to appreciate how difficult it’s been for her without a soul mate since Dad departed for the 4:15pm at Kempton Town.
Sick of seeing my mum lonely; I decided about six months ago that it’d be a good idea to get her a dog; we had a poodle called Pep when I was born and he always brightened up our home.
You’d think it’d be pretty easy finding a little rescued dog right? Wrong. It’s an utter smeg. Understandably, procedures for rehousing a dog are pretty tight; but in my opinion they are pretty unrealistic and inflexible. Lots of visits, reviews by inspectors, yearly evaluations; barriers all. Then again, I refuse to pay £500-£1000 to someone who is privately breeding an animal; It’s prostitution isn’t it?
I was getting ready to give up the search; when lucky for me, a friend of a friend had stumbled upon a poor little soul who was surplus to requirements at such a breeders. A 10 week old Jack Russell puppy was on borrowed time; I was asked if I wanted him; I said “yes please”.
He arrived to my house in a cardboard box, energetic, not nervous at all; very affectionate. His attitude contradicted the lack of love and attention that I understood he had been subjected to at his previous ‘home’. Then he was sick. I wanted to call him Ralph because of this (Ralph being a slang term for being sick in the 1980’s AND the name of the dog in the Muppets).
Anyway, Mum came down from Joanies, unaware he was in the front room. And as soon as she clasped eyes on him, I knew almost immediately that I had done something really special for her;it felt great. Yes, this is all mushy stuff isn’t it? But I have to take a little break from all the cynical shit I throw up on here right?
The evening of my birthday will be a special one as I shall always remember Joan, my brother, sister and her children, in the front room; all watching the dog sod about. No mobile phones, no T.V. on. It was a cool moment.
Trying to find a name for him was painfully slow. His ‘given’ name was Jack. Nyeaaah. Then mum disliked Ralph (bitch!), she thought Eric was nice (Eric Cantona) but I suggested that it sounded too much like erection, and Snowy was just a gay suggestion.
Mum asked me to remember what I used to call my Dad; I had honestly forgotten till she mentioned it; as a pun on our Indian heritage, I used to call Dad ‘Chico Patel’; going as far once to write it on a chauffeur board and hold it up whilst waiting within Gatwick Airport arrivals hall when Lorraine, Brian and I went to pick them up after a holiday to Turkey. Much to the old man’s amusement.
So we called him Chico.
Today I bathed him, treated him for fleas and cuddled him as he fell asleep in his fleecy blanket; I’ve not seen my Mum smile so much, nor have I seen her so motivated for many, many years. And I am very grateful that he is here.
Arf.
The Antikrish 
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