Friday, October 19, 2018

gracie chronicles vol VI: happy wanderer

Greetings, blog people!

I'm a Scorpio, and I love long walks through the neighbors' lawns where I can poop in large quantities so they know I've been thinking about them.

And exactly what I've been thinking about them.

AND, if the vet has it right, and I'm really nine years old, that would put me in the Year of the Ox on the Chinese zodiac.

Silence, whippersnappers.



Mom's friend (the other Andrea) asked why she hasn't posted on the blog in a long time, and Mom blamed it on...whatever.

Then there was something about no motivation or inspiration. And some crap about candy. So her friend sent her this:



Mom felt so inspired that she promptly started to eat the candy and told ME to write a post or she'd make me live outside the rest of my life. Without candy.

Woof. I am Gracie.



Mom and Dad decided to take me on a road trip, and that was an amazing idea. I was so happy to be in the front seat, the back seat, the front seat. You get the idea. I got to breathe my catfish breath in their faces for what I'm hoping felt like an eternity. I saw lots of cute baby cows who will most certainly grow up to be delicious steaks one day.

But, that's not why this post is titled "happy wanderer." At least, that's not the only reason.

They say I can't be trusted, which is why every time we go outside, I have to be on a leash or tether. I was kind enough to offer to help my Dad pick up fallen limbs, and he had the audacity to shovel me into my harness and tie me to a tree like a common D-O-G. As if I would wander off instead of work diligently to clean up the backyard mess. I get no respect.

I fail to see how I could have proven them right when I spied the next-door neighbors' luscious, tender, and meaty kittens waltzing in my direction. Those flickering tails teasing me. Those little kitten eyes burning into my very soul.

Kittens are supremely delicious. I'm just sure of it. If only I had a long enough rope to test my theory.

It's not as though I catapulted myself at 467 miles per hour toward the aforementioned kittens and was stopped abruptly by the cord that tethered me to that hateful tree. And thrown backward six feet by the reflex.

They say this is proof, but they are horrid, wretched liars.



I suppose I'm lucky I didn't break my back. Dad says I most certainly would have broken my neck had I been wearing my collar instead of my straightjacket.

It would have served them right for torturing me so.

Speaking of kittens, Mom hasn't even mentioned That Damn Cat. I wanted to eat the cat when I first came to be the Obergruppenschnauzer of the House, but we somehow became great friends. I think it was after she smacked the shit out of me and I learned Respect. Alas, my Izzy passed away in February. 



She lived a very long (and eventful) life, but the poor girl was old and she finally ran out of gas. You might think I'm joking when I tell you I was very sad, but I was. Truly. Every morning I would go out the back door and poke my head in her house to prove to her I still live inside and rule the kingdom, while she still lives in her second-rate kitty condo. When I discovered her absence, I whined and cried. Then I hoped to find her under her favorite rose bush. She still wasn't there, and I whined and cried again. This carried on for a week before Dad finally dismantled her house and pitched it.

Despicable people.

Then Mom didn't even write a blog post about her death.

As it happens, today is the second anniversary of their beloved Eddie's death. Some dogs might be jealous, but not me. I know the reason I am here is because of the love they had for him. They rescued me, and even though sometimes I'm a little snarky, I am forever grateful.

Gah! This post is getting far too morose!

In other news, my Reesie-Pie-Baby turned two!!


We are the best of friends.


My Reese-Baby has a baby! Well, you know what I mean...


This is Lennox. I love her, too.

Even though she looks like she's trying to catch flies.


Mom says don't forget to tell everyone what she's doing.

As if you didn't know.


Finally, let's get to the real purpose of the title of this post. 

Mom is over in the corner, laughing and blowing snot.

You probably didn't notice the giant bulge on my neck.



Oh, yes. Let's get a close-up. Please.



I'm sure you can imagine what Mom thinks it looks like. And for those of you who aren't newcomers (HELLO, NEWCOMERS!), I'm sure you understand how Mom's mind works by now.

Before you freak out, it's just a fluid cyst, and is not life-threatening. They won't knock me out to have it removed because of my heart murmur.

But that growth.

Male anatomy.

She began belting out "The Happy Wanderer," but instead of "knapsack on my back," it was:

I love to go a-wandering...
Along the Schnauzer track.
And when I go, I love to wear...
My nutsac on my neck!
Valderee...valderah...
Valderee...valderah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Valderee...valderah....the nutsac on my neck...

The response from her friend, Dr. Jeanne, was:

"You have probably ruined that song for me."

Her son-in-law (a brilliant musician and choral leader) said:

"The Germans (a group he leads) sing that song every spring for Mayfest...and now I'll never hear it the same way."

And now we've ruined all of the interwebs.

I'll leave you with my favorite rendition of the Happy Wanderer by the Muppets. Because Muppets!


















7 comments:

  1. Oh Gracie!! It's so good to hear from you!! I've missed you (and your mom}! So sorry to hear about your friend the Damn Cat. I have 2 of them and I know I'll be sad when they die. And I'm afraid that song will never be the same for me, either. hehehe. Dona

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  2. Hello Gracie and family! Thanks for tipping in and getting us all up to speed. Reesie and Lennox are so cute. Love the photos of them together and you with Reesie at the window.
    Sorry to hear of Izzy's passing.
    Hugs to all,
    Christina in SW FL

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  3. I wonder if schnauzers are just prone to them as my little Chewy has one on his side as well. I think the next time they put him under to clean his teeth I’ll have it removed, but he’s 10 so maybe it’s old age too? Sorry to hear about his cat buddy, maybe you need a new rescue?

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  4. Oh Gracie, your terrible parents, tying you to a tree so you can't taste those kittens. Poor baby!! Don't worry about the cyst, just call it an extra cool "boob."

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  5. So much going on! Two little girls in your life, neck growth, and almost killing yourself trying to taste kittens. Sorry your own cat friend died. I hope Mom feels better soon. I have been dealing with snot for almost three weeks. Chocolate helps. ;)

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  6. Hiya Gracie gal. I'm sorry to read your friend Izzy passed. I'm glad you have the comfort of your humans to help you through your sadness. They need you right now. I'm also reading Eddie passed. I'm very sorry for that to. Chat soon enough. Jamie

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  7. Gracie, I'm sorry you lost your cat friend. We lost a cat here at Cottage last summer too and though the other cats didn't like him much, they kept looking for him for a while. Don't worry about your kist. Shadow had a huge one, it got removed and I thought it was a mistake afterwards : the kist wasn't dangerous, but the surgery was and it took Shadow weeks to get over it... He even had to wear a t-shirt so the scar wouldn't be exposed to the sun : you don't want that!

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