Dedicated to the proposition that all chipmunks are edible -- pass the grey poupon!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Wolfpack at Home
Hey, friends--what do you think of my fourteen-inch tongue? It's usually outside of its house. Cool, huh?
I, Gracie, avec la langue étonnante, am compelled to introduce you to my very best buddies--my fellow delinquents:
In this corner, we have Bailey the Silent. She NEVER lets us know how she feels.
Then there's Buster the Compulsive Workaholic. You'll never catch him relaxing.
And of course, there's me. It's all about ME. ME. Don'tcha think my long legs are gorgeous?
My Uncle Buster says, if I'm really lucky, I'll turn out just like him!
I'm quickly learning the certified Buster technique for eviscerating my toys! Uncle Buster says that when I lose my baby teeth, I'll be able to do some real damage!
Now, let's preview some action-footage. Bailey tells me that my attention span is even shorter than Buster's. So here's what happens when somebody tries to watch TV:
I'm working on fine-tuning my skills in chaos incubation even more. Buster says it takes patience.
Here's a final look at a practice session in close-in tooth-work:
Mom thinks I have lots of potential. Dad's re-seeded the back yard five times already, and I'm helping Uncle Buster dig up the septic tank so that we can go visit Noah.
I love my work!
Your friend,
Gracie
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Notable Noses
Sunday, September 26, 2010
My Most Excellent Pond Circumnavigation--by Gracie, Master Mariner
My stout ship, the Delfino, lay in port awaiting her Commander: me! It was time to accomplish what no Kerry Blue Terrier puppy named Gracie had ever done before--a voyage of historic implications--the complete circumnavigation of THE POND.
Verily, this legendary, treacherous body of water appeared deceptively tranquil; but I had heard the stories from my Uncle Buster. Unspeakable things awaited my attempt to navigate this perilous sea.
Strange creatures intruded upon my course, uttering ghastly calls that caused my soul to shiver.
"Hic sunt dracones," said the navigation chart. These dragons could fly!
I remembered the lines from Coleridge: And slimy things did crawl with legs upon that sunless sea!" There were creatures possessing a single foot that did crawl, dragging their curious houses with them!
A giant Sea Rodent with enormous, sharp teeth threatened to devour my craft.
And the ultimate horror: the fabled, dreaded Baileybeast. She attacked with an unexpected vengeance, and for a few minutes, I knew how Captain Nemo felt at the mercy of the Giant Squid!
It was by no means sufficient that the avian spirits of the undead should chill me to the marrow with blood-curdling calls. Monsieur loon proceeded to shape-shift into a winged torpedo and, like the Great White Whale, disappear into the depths, leaving it to my imagination what might happen next!
At times like these, a Commander of one of Her Majesty's vessels of exploration must demonstrate calm leadership. I managed to keep my wits about me!
The red-eyed specter from the Murky Depths retreated...
The sun fell below the horizon upon the placid seas...
And I fell into a deep sleep!
Your faithful correspondent,
Gracie
Admiral of the Ocean Sea
Sunday, September 19, 2010
My New Flight Suit -- by Gracie
Friday, September 17, 2010
America's Got Talent: The Buster vs. Gracie Olympic Sleeping Competition
You can imagine the years of rigorous training...
The hiring and firing of coaches...
The strict dietary rules...
The difficult decision to eschew steroid use...
The incessant practices: before dawn, late morning, early afternoon, late afternoon, and evening!
My technique was, in my view, perfect.
I had the requisite endurance.
I was a Champion!
This was my "technical" routine. Note the exquisite combination of NREM, REM, and Stage IV sleep! It was beautiful.
My Freestyle program was innovative. No one had ever seen these moves! Even the judges stood up and applauded.
Then SHE came.
She stole the judges' hearts. The audience was left breathless.
I had met my match. I was a has-been. I was doomed to finish my career performing commentaries for ESPN.
Gracie was the quintessence of youth as she stood on the podium accepting the Gold. I vow revenge. In four years, I will make my come-back!
Ruefully,
Buster
P.S.
I report one small victory.
In the Global War Against Squirrels, I have found a reliable ally!
He joined me for breakfast this morning, brandishing the entrails of one of the cursed gray rodents in his mouth.
I like him. He understands.
Let me introduce my new friend:
Rupert the Red-tailed Hawk.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
The Persecution and Torment of Buster, as Performed by the Inmates of The Pond, under the Direction of Gracie
The pastoral beauty of New Hampshire had lulled me into languorous unconcern. My senses were dulled. I lacked the requisite "edge" for effective self-defense.
She must have been groomed for the job by Aliens. Beneath that lovely facade lay something unspeakable.
She was a clown. With an Attitude.
Her aptitude for close-in combat was alarming.
Her alien diet consisted of pinecones.
Strange.
Each evening, she beamed herself back up to the Mother Ship and replenished the charge in her HyperDrive. I love her.
Best,
Buster
Best,
Buster
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