Those Ruddy Bloody Dogs

Does anything say ‘Friday’ more than our Strictly Dog Dancing final? Doesn’t it just make you long for the weekend that little bit more? I know I do. Knowing I have to judge choreographed cainines later in the day, I often think it’s a minor miracle that I’m not rat arsed by lunch. When I see those little mutts in their sequins and ties, I begin to regret agreeing to what has been one of Judy’s dumbest ideas. Not that I had much of a say in the matter. Judy can be persistent and she gave me an ultimatum. It was either the dancing dogs or parrots that can yodel.

Dogs. I can’t stand the bloody things myself. And the owners are worse. I swear that if Britain didn’t have dogs to look after, the national musical instrument would be the banjo. Want kind of person wants to teach tap dancing to a terrier? Have they ever wondered if a dog wants to learn to tap dance and what advantages a tap dancing terrier might have over the rest of the animal kingdom? It’s hardly evolution. Can you imagine in a thousand years the possibility that all dogs can tap dance. Nature will have weeded out all dogs with weak ankles or a poor heel-toe. There’d even be films dedicated to them. Little doggy versions of Gene Kelly splashing through the puddles or doing Busby Berkely style spectacles. Some people probably love the idea. If it ever catches on, though, you know who came up with the idea.

Before I go and hit the tonic water, here are some doggy facts. Did you also know that medically all dogs are cross-eyed but they have learned to live with the condition? Did you also know that dogs carry more parasites than rats? In fact, some bigger dogs have been known to carry small rats. In some countries, small rat infested dogs have been found living in the fur of larger mammals and that the original Lassie had a rat living in its coat for the first three films. Did you also know that Mae West’s favourite animal was her pet Alsatian? On the animal’s death, she had skinned and made into a hat. Mae’s Alsatian hat caused a huge storm of protests in the 1960s but for a short period of time, it was the height of fashion to wear a dog skin hat. Bob Dylan wrote a song about the trend but later changed it to a Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat when music executives refused to allow him to sing about his Labrador’s Rib Cage Hat.

The Viagra Truth

There’s been some talk in the media about my experimenting with Viagra. I think I should explain all before it gets out of hand and I have every Tom, Dick & Sir James asking me about my sex life. The plain truth is: yes, I have experimented with Viagra. But I didn’t experiment on myself.

I actually gave it to the dog. Barney (right) had been looking a little under the weather lately and, to be perfectly honest, it was a rainy Saturday and I’d got myself a little bored. Judy had nipped to Iceland (the supermarket, not the country) and left me at home doing The Times cryptic crossword. It had taken me longer than usual to finish but, after five minutes hard work, it was done. I scribbled in the word ‘metempsychosis’ and threw my pencil down and turned my mind to what I was going to do next. Not being a man who likes to sit on my hands, I looked for something to do. Only, Judy had already done everything. The house was tidy. The garden looked good. The lawn was cut.

That’s when I spotted the Viagra bottle. We’d picked it up on the show last week when Dr. Raj come in to talk about troubles south of the trouser line. Not really thinking what I was doing, I took a few of the tablets, crushed them up, and dropped them in the dog’s bowl. You know… Just to see what would happen.

That was about eleven o’clock in the morning. I think I must have dozed off. I woke up an hour later when I heard Judy scream. I found her standing in the hallway looking as white as a sheet as Barney was straddling a frozen turkey in the middle of the hall.

‘Oh Richard! Get him off!’ she cried.

I leapt into action. Only, I could prise him away. The poor animal was frozen solid to the bird. Not only was he frozen solid, he was frozen by a very delicate part of his anatomy. It wasn't the sort of job you could go at with a chisel and a crowbar.

An hour later, a few bowls of hot water and some details you’d probably not like to hear, we’d got him off the turkey. Barney had suffered frostbite in places it’s not natural to get frostbite unless you’re a Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes. The vet says he might not be right down there again, which, actually, is a bit of blessing. We’d been talking of having him neutered so this saved us the job.

That's pretty much the whole story. Judy threw the Viagra down the toilet and set to work preparing the turkey for our Sunday dinner, which, despite all its adventures, tasted even better than ever.

Which leads me, I suppose, to some turkey facts. Did you know that the turkey is actually the national bird of Turkey? It not flightless, as many believe, merely overweight. A properly trim turkey can fly as well as any bird, and, in some African nations, they are raised for sport and flown in races, much as we race pigeons in this country. The biggest every turkey weighed in at over twenty stone and fed a family of twelve for Christmas and through to Easter, two years later.

Griff

On today’s show we’ve got Griff Rhys Jones coming into the studio to talk about walking. Or at least he thinks he’s there to talk about walking. We’ll actually be giving him an extreme makeover with the help of our resident beautician, Brenda Green. I don’t know how Griff's going to take it but we’ve got a team of trained medical staff standing by, primed with hypodermics full of tranquillizer. Even if we have to strap him down, we'll get the job done. Should make for some good teatime television.

Griff’s a good guy and I’m the first to admit that he’s done a lot of good for the nation’s ruins, but this is my chance to get him back for the time he nominated Judy as a listed building and tried to get BBC viewers to pay for renovation work on her southern wing. That’s his only real fault. He’s a bit of a pain in the arse when it comes to criticising other people and he never accepts that he needs plenty of work doing on his own crumbling facade. By the end of the show, I’m hoping to see a new Griff with his jaw pegged back to his ears and those bags under his eyes tucked somewhere where they won’t be seen. Plus, I’m hoping we’ll be able to do something a bit special with his nostrils but you'll have to tune in to see what I've got planned.

If it’s not too much for a Monday, here are some Griff Rhys Jones facts to keep you going before five o’clock. Griff is a fully trained vet and spends his nights neutering dogs he finds wandering the London streets. He also has a passion for hedgehogs and owns the largest hedgehog sanctuary in the country. Despite being tone deaf, Griff has written three top ten hits for Westlife and is currently composing a musical version of ‘Alas Smith and Jones’ which he hopes to take to the West End next year starring Gareth Gates and Paul Potts (who is also on tonight’s show).