Tag Archives: pet owner


This is Pamplemousse.

She is ridiculous, on so many levels. She fancies herself as a comedian (which she is), thinks she is always right, has a superior attitude to everyone, never responds to treats, is fussy, rude, farts like a trooper, has no idea about personal space, chases cyclists, cats and terriers, never, ever does as she is told, embarrasses me always, hates early mornings and likes to sleep a lot.


On the plus side, Pamplemousse will often respond to polite requests, is fiercely loyal, guards the house and me (although the chimney sweep was not amused by this), loves riding in all cars, is kind to my parrots, enjoys trips to the bank and showing off. She is hysterically funny and able to make her demands easily understood by anyone. I think she is very beautiful and I am extremely proud of her.

I realise that her name is unusual, but she is an extraordinary dog. Her name is rarely shortened, always used in full but she herself will insist on being called; Mrs P Moose when she is at the vets, The Pampster when she is on guard, Moosey-Woosey when she is on the rampage around the house and garden, especially when doing a brilliant version of the wall of death, and Pomple-Le-Moose when she is feeling sophisticated. She speaks basic french (like me) and fluent italian (which I don’t) in a nod to her impeccable European heritage.

She likes to be sung to, with songs being given a unique version to include her name, for example; “My Moosey Don’t Care” to the tune of Ticket to Ride by the Beatles, “hey Moosey-Woosey, stop picking on me” to the tune of Stupid Cupid by Mandy Moore and my personal favourite “You’re lovely to me yes you are, you’ve dribbled and slobbered and ruined our car” to the tune of You’re Lovely to me by Lucky Jim.

This post was inspired by: http://myparentsarecrazierthanyours.com/2011/03/28/i-got-99-problems-but-a-dog-aint-one-41/


“I’m Going To Faint, Get Me A Cherry Tomato”

This story does not include an explanation for the intriguing title, more of that later. I wish to share with you a little tale of how, as a ‘mother’, I was shocked to the core last night.

I am the proud owner of two beautiful rescue parrots, one of whom is a Black Headed South American Caique, a truly charismatic fellow called Wally. Wally came to live with me after I met his owner at 3am during a music festival last June. His wonderful owner (extraordinary handlebar moustache) confided to me how worried he was about Wally since Wallys partner had died. Wally had gotten very depressed and had plucked all his feathers out, plus he hates men so his male owner was struggling. Since I already had a parrot, we decided that I would meet Wally the next day and if all went well I would take him home. Which of course I duly did. My boyfriend was horrified (by that, read: almost dumped me). My other parrot was not amused (also horrified and extremely jealous). Nevertheless, Wally and I were in love so he stayed.

He is a busy and sociable parrot with a seemingly insatiable appetite for hating my boyfriend. We think he has several personalities and is very much like the Mad Scientist Hugo-A-Go-Go from the eighties cartoon BatFink. Last night after I had put Wally to bed (he gets grumpy if he does not have his full twelve hours of darkness for rest), I could hear him going busily about his business and suspected that he was up to something (building a nuclear missile perhaps? Or plotting the kidnap and selling to the slave trade of my boyfriend?), so I went over and lifted the curtain of his cage.

Imagine the total shock and disbelief I experienced when I saw my beloved little boy masturbating on one of his toys. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, one wing outstretched and going hell for leather against his spinning puzzle ball. It was a couple of seconds before Wally spotted me staring at him, then he screamed at me. I imagined him shouting something like Uncle Frank did in the bathroom scene of Home Alone 2: Lost In New York when Kevin recorded his uncle yelling “get out of here you nosey little pervert or I’m gonna slap you silly”. I quickly closed his curtain, switched off all the lights and went to bed, somewhat dazed. I did actually feel like a nosey little pervert. No mother/ pet owner should ever be witness to such private times.

About the title of this blog; my sister gave birth to a baby on New Years Day. There were some complications after the actual birth (which was at home) so the ambulance was called. When walking from the room out to the ambulance, she suddenly felt faint and so uttered that immortal line; “I’m going to faint, get me a cherry tomato”. I find that hilarious, why a cherry tomato? Why a tomato of any sort? Why not a chair? She’s ok by the way, her and baby are doing fine and I am so thrilled to have a new nephew.