‘Tis the Season to be a Dog
‘Tis the season. The holidays are here again, and my humans just never learn. They’re running around like someone just yelled “Cat!,” and threatening the young boy with coal if he isn’t good. These are odd times.
The kitchen floor is getting cooler as I lay belly up, inhaling the sweet scent of bacon in the air. It’s Saturday morning, and the doorbell rings. I jump with a start and reach the door just in time, right as my furless friend opens it. The man standing in our doorway smells vaguely familiar. I bark a greeting, which is neither hospitable nor rude. I’m just there to collect information as I haven’t yet ruled this stranger out as a threat to my household.
As I peer up, my tall furless friend takes a package from this stranger. Just as I bark again, the door is closed and I hear the faint steps of the stranger walking away. I wish I could have sniffed him better.
My humans have resigned to the couch with the mysterious package in hand. They open a large envelope and pull out some papers. I jump up into the young boy’s lap as my older humans discuss their new find.
“I can’t believe we are going through another PCS move right after Christmas!” says the pretty one.
The ruggedly handsome one just sighs and says something about a long break and how it will be fun.
“Fun!” I know that word. My young boy knows it, too!
It sometimes involves him making a tent out of an old blanket and two chairs. He is really a genius at that! Even when it crashes down around us, we just regroup and rebuild, or sometimes the word fun involves playing ball outside. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining, snowing, or a clear sunny day; we can always have fun, no matter what.
I wish my older, yet adorable, humans could have fun like that, but these holidays can sometimes bring out something called “stress.”
Yes, I hear that word all too often lately.
I’m also growing tired of a thing called “lists.”
The pretty one has been making lists. There is a “moving list,” which entails cleaning everything within sight, then moving it around. She loves to move old things out from closets, then stick new things inside.
It makes absolutely no sense.
There is also a “shopping list,” which involves buying new things to collect in closets, but these are wrapped in pretty paper. The young boy is told to stay away. He’s threatened again with coal if he doesn’t comply.
There’s talk of getting a Christmas tree up, so I’m rather excited about that. There are so many plans and hustle and bustle! You’re probably wondering if I have any Christmas plans of my own. Well, I suppose I could make a list and check it twice like everyone else around here, but I have decided to lay belly up, which no, is actually not a new plan.
It’s an art form that I’ve perfected. I will just oversee all my humans’ odd efforts and lick their faces at first chance.
And when they bend down low and scratch my back or rub my belly, I will try to teach the old ones new tricks. I will gaze into their tired eyes and let loose a peaceful sigh.
It will take a moment, but I know my masters will then breathe easier in turn, and I will wish them love and peace throughout the whole crazy season.
