Hello, my name is Appy, and I am a four-year-old mini-schnauzer. My full name is Apothic Red Nelly Maier and my mom’s name is Tanya. My fur is black, and my mom says there are not many black schnauzers out there. I weigh 12.6 pounds and must have been the rut of the litter because, in my breed, most weigh between 18 and 20 pounds. But really who cares about weight? All I know is that me love da food!
My mom has me on a diet. And she’s been on one too. For months. Supposedly. But don’t tell her I said that. She will get mad. And trust me, when Tanya is mad at me, it’s not pretty. For instance, when she catches me eating dried up chunks of grass. Oh. My. God. I love da grass! It’s so delicious – hard and crunchy with a bit of a salty favour. And best of all, we have no short supply in our backyard.
My mom doesn’t cut the grass. Our landlord, Bob, used to come and cut the lawn. He never used a bag on the lawn mower, so there was cut grass all over. Eventually, Bob sent some lady, but she did a terrible job and missed entire patches of grass. I didn’t see it as much of an issue, but my mom did. Then, an older man came, and he is much better at cutting the grass.
So back to what I was saying, when my mom catches me chomping on some very yummy hard clumps of grass. I hear, “Appy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Appy!!!!!!!! Appy, STOP. No. No, no, no.” And she starts walking toward me. But, because I am so small and light on my paws, I’m like a black ninja for a dog! I zip around to the left and then to the right, chopping away at that delicious grass.
Tanya’s tone changes, “APPY! OUT! OUT! Spit that out right now, missy!”
Now the fun begins.
She starts running after me in the backyard and I’m jumping and running, zip to the right, then the left, then the right again to confuse her. Then BAM! She catches me and grabs my collar. Now I am in trouble.
“Apothic Red Nelly Maier! Do you want to live until you are five??” she says to me in her mean voice. She proceeds to open my mouth with her other hand and grabs whatever pieces of cut grass are still left in my mouth. Sometimes, it’s too late and I swallow the last bit.
She repeats, “Do you want to live until you are five?”
I’m like, “I don’t know. What is five?”
She then let’s go of the collar and I’m free again on the grass. Youppppie! Free at last!
But now she’s watching me. It only lasts for a minute or two and then she goes back to talking to our neighbour, Kelly. Now, when I see her talking and sipping on her Crafty Radler, I can go back to eating da yummy grass. Hee hee. I’m not sure what Crafty Radler is but I’ve had some and it’s AMMMAZZING. It’s not too sweet or tart and it’s a little fizzy. It is very different from what I drink out of my water bowl. Now you may be wondering, how do I know what it tastes like.
On most summer afternoons, my Mom Auntie Kelly, who lives next door, get together in our backyard. They sit on chairs and drink from cans. It’s always around 3PM and we are all outside for 30-45 minutes. They talk and talk and drink from their cans. I notice that Auntie Kelly brings her own can. The label on the can reads A-l-e-x-a-n-d-e-r K-e-i-t-h A-l-e.
Mom refers to this time as ‘Beer o’clock’. It can be on any day of the week, weekends included. One afternoon a while back, she got off her chair and sat on our little deck, with her small can next to her. I moved close to check it out and licked the top. Oh my God, I thought. I tasted heaven.
Mom said, “No Appy, not for pups!” She took a sip and moved the can closer to her.
Well, no to me is a relative term. And I had to know for sure it really was that tasty. I slowly approached the can and took a quick lick at the top. It was as delicious as I remembered!
“Apppppyyyy, what did I say?”
I look up and give her my innocent look. She goes back to her conversation with Auntie Kelly.
I sit and wait. Talk, talk, talk and both of their voices are raising which to me, means it’s getting intense. No one is paying attention to me.
I quietly nudge the can over with my nose and the liquid oozes out onto the deck.
Of course, everyone knows anything on the ground – or deck – is fair game and free for all. Mine now!!!
“APPPYYYYYY!!!!!! NO! NO! Stop that! Stop that right now!”
Too late. All gone. And I give her my innocent look again as I lick my lips.
Funny thing. She rarely leaves a can on the deck anymore. Frigg.
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