LIZ JONES's Diary: In which more disaster strikes. Plus, a tip on giving up alcohol

Updated: 10:55 EDT, 23 August 2026 Saturday night. I took Pissy Missy upstairs, holding on to her harness. On the landing, she hesitated, her hind legs went under her, she turned, slipped again, then collapsed on her side. I stroked her ears, as that’s supposed to calm her (well, I like it), but then she started to fit: limbs paddling furiously, her eyes turning white, breathing rapidly. I thought she was about to die.Teddy, alarmed, slunk up to his bedroom on the top floor, tail between his legs: typical male who avoids conflict and drama at all costs. The fit lasted a few minutes before she was still.I quickly brushed my teeth, failing to Waterpik for the first time since I purchased them in Istanbul, then carried her shaking black and white little body with a now damp bottom to her bed at the foot of mine. She was in shock, goggly brown eyes imploring me, ‘What just happened, Mum?’ The next day, I noticed the stone floor was etched with her claw marks.Sunday morning, she woke me at 8am with a pointy nose under the duvet, bright as a button. I needed to call the (new, pay-as-you-go) vet first thing. Nic sent me an app (Cardalis) you use to record a dog’s breathing while they sleep; it will then give readings to the vet. I feel like Nurse Hathaway, only without Doug Ross.To cheer myself up, I went for a solo lunch at my favourite place in the Dales (I was previously barred due to Gracie’s squirty bottom, but there has thankfully been a regime change). The maître d’, eyes scanning the area behind me (I don’t date short men, apart from Prince), greeted me with, ‘Is it just yourself?’Not even grammatical but, yeah, who do you want me to rock up with?A monosyllabic nightmare in unironed T-shirt with a pocket on the front and canvas shoes with the backs trodden down? A serial cheater who never puts his hand in his pocket but orders steak and oysters? Someone who eats octopus and will later raid my mini bar? Who has a balloon for a tummy? Someone devoid of anecdotes? Someone who has forgotten his spectacles, again, and wants the entire menu read to him, like a toddler demanding a bedtime story? Someone who believes we landed on the Moon? A giant child who is on their phone the whole time, starts kicking the table and whines for a KFC? An ‘I never pick up the bill’ man who subsists on ready meals and who in the Michelin-starred River Cafe has the cheek to moan, as if he is Marcus Ding Dong Wareing, ‘A panna cotta should always be vanilla’? A coeliac man who, having been rude to the waitress, wails, ‘I’d kill for a lager but, you know, it contains malt!’A female friend during her birthday lunch, and whom I have just gifted an £80 Aesop candle (her response: ‘I don’t light candles due to the carcinogenic fumes and the flickering light, which triggers my migraines’), who asks menacingly, ‘Does the nut roast contain walnuts?’ Teddy?I was reminded of my editor who, 26 years ago, was trying to come up with a name for this column. ‘How about, “Only me!” with an exclamation mark?’Seems apt, somehow.PS: great tip for anyone like me struggling to give up alcohol. Future Château has half the alcohol and calories of normal wine, but you simply can’t tell. The sparkling (vegan) is delicious. So, you can cut your alcohol intake by half – or drink twice as much. Your choice!JONES MOANS... WHAT LIZ LOATHES THIS WEEKDue to hundreds of pounds of damage to my new office carpet, I bought moth traps from The Clothes Doctor. I have so far caught three, so that is almost £10 per moth…I’m dreading September and the school run: get out of the way! Move! When I was at Brentwood High, I would walk (in platforms) to the railway station, get off at Wickford, catch a bus to a roundabout, then walk a mile up the verge of an A road.I can’t stand Instagram et al but, according to New York magazine, it’s over for influencers (thank god! I might bag a ticket to the M&S catwalk show next month), as ‘there’s less of a desire to watch someone else live out their [perfect] life. It’s like, “How does this impact me?”’