Mrs T in a tizz

It is not often that Mrs Trellis gets huffy. But on this occasion:
Dear Jonathan Ross. she writes, I found your last two posts quite unacceptable. The one about the poodle was disgraceful: it is clear that you are no dog-lover, or you would know that poodles never chase butterflies. Of course, they will eat one if it lands on their lip, but no self-respecting poodle would ever get up off its haunches to do anything so vulgar as to run after one. Poodles, as you clearly don't know, are aristocrats, descended from an undernourished talbot owned by King Louis XIV's Topiarist-en-chef, hence the funny haircuts. Don't ask me how I know this, but I don't need Wikipedia, thank you very much
And the one about fathers was equally outrageous. Don't you realise how much you owe to your father, including your speech impediment? My dad was a noble and wonderful person. According to my mother. Whoever he was. I only wish I had known him. At least, I benefited from his estate by securing a huge loan to help me buy Casa Croeso, my little Welsh haven which the late Mr Trellis loved so much, when he was sober.
So, please be nice about poodles and fathers is the earnest wish of
Your faithful correspondent
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Retired.