Wednesday, December 24, 2008

"Look!" he imagined visitors might cry in glee. "This house belongs to A Dog Who Loves Christmas!"

The Dog Who Loved Christmas could count on a fine buffet of appealing snacks on the holiday, always placed on coffee tables and low snack trays where he could see them. There were cheeses and round little crackers, sometimes smeared with stinky fish. The dog would feign disinterest and pray for a phone or doorbell to ring, the better to snatch a few. At Christmas, no one kept count. When he was by himself at night, The Dog Who Loved Christmas would help himself to hard candies in a low bowl, suck each piece for a few seconds, then stick it back to try a new flavour. They always wondered why the candy stuck together.

The Dog Who Loved Christmas enjoyed an occasional lick of chip dip and sometimes, to amuse himself, would carry a few potato chips in his mouth to his water dish. There, he'd float them like boats. Then he would whimper pathetically til someone came.

"What's wrong?" they were sure to ask. "Oh poor dog! There are in chips in your water dish. Let me get you a new one." They'd fetch a fresh dish of lovely, cool water, give him a pat and sometimes a treat. Minutes later, there'd be a familiar whimpering, new chips in the water dish and a new victim to say, "Poor dog."

The Dog Who Loved Christmas rolled happily in the wrapping paper on Christmas Eve and--since he growled menacingly at anybody who tried to retrieve wrappings--got to guard the paper overnight. It was collected the next morning, no piece bigger than a torn movie ticket, while the dog took his morning walk. It reappeared Christmas Eve as confetti.

On Christmas Day, The Dog Who Loved Christmas would sit politely under the dining room table. He was so quiet visitors had to peek underneath to convince themselves he was even in the house.

"I can't believe it!" they would cry. "My dog would be begging, barking and carrying on! Why I'd never know your dog was even in the room! What a Good Dog!" Dozens of times, hands would appear under the table offering turkey and tidbits.

No comments: