Prickles, New Do’s and A Picnic

The rain has been wonderful for the grass and the trees and the prickles! Now, prickles to a schnauzer coat, are a nightmare. All that soft, curly hair is a real prickle magnet.  But what’s a schnauzer to do, when all we want is to run free in the bush, off the lead, where we can feel the wind in our hair. We get sent back to our long-suffering groomer, that’s what! Grandma Caroline gets out her biggest scissors, and snip, snip, snip – we are practically naked! This is a good thing for our Mumma Jude, as it saves a lengthy grooming session with Argan Oil and comb, to de-tangle us. Luckily we are still very handsome with our summer sports cut. It’s wash and wear and almost drip-dry.
We are getting this cut as we speak, ready for the next Schnauzer Picnic, where schnauzers gather from near and far, to revel in the sun, sand and surf at The Spit, in Southport. Our hoomans will worry about who’s doggo is getting their nice, new bandana, and collar and lead set wet, but we don’t care what we look like. We know we are cute!
Now, it’s a worrying time for them, because of the Covid thing, so we won’t be having an actual picnic like we usually do, where Grandma Caroline and Grandpa Eddie break out the barbie and fry up sausages! Shame, as we schnauzers love a good sausage; just ask the mob at Bunnings! But, this time, the Schnauzerhaus crew have been invited to a private gathering afterwards, where we get the run of the house, all the scraps, and get made a huge fuss of!  After we’ve all stuffed ourselves full, Mumma Jude bundles us up into the Schnauzermobile, with lots of big cushions, and our wonderful seatbelts that are advertised on our Associates page on the website, and we sleep all the way back home to Toowoomba. Last time, Dr Vestas ran himself ragged, and even disappeared over a sandhill on an adventure of his own. He was so tired, he had to be carried, fast asleep, into the house.
Remember, it’s a trying time for the hoomans, and for us, to, because if they get sick, who looks after us. People in the shops and on the telly are all snitchy-snarly, and buying up too much stuff, in a panic so they don’t run out. At the supermarket, it’s worse than dogs sizing each other up for a dog fight! Then they get it home, and the doggos run amuck with all that precious toilet paper!
Dr Vestas says, remember folks: If you can’t change it, just pee on it, and walk away. He’s always chilled, so he gives the emotions time to register in his brain. Big breaths now!
Ruff! Ruff!