Christmas is Over, and Business is Business, but First, Some Pictures of Dogs

 

My parents' dog, Lucy, loves Christmas. She guards the cookies, and cries and howls for hours when she sees her stocking come out for the season. She knows what that sock with a bell on it means: several mouthfuls of treats. 

 

"Here, let me help you with that, Marlo Senior!"

Her favorite sound in the world is crinkly paper. It's also her favorite texture to gnaw on. It's a very big holiday. 

This was our third Christmas with my dog, Albright, who pranced across the living room on Christmas morning with her stocking in her mouth. 

 

Yes, she does have a scarlet A on her stocking, but she's not a hobag.

 

                   

Then the dogs ruined Christmas by fighting over their Greenies, growling, and pouting for the next 48 hours.

Well, Albright got over her pouting pretty quickly.

                                      

These clever toys, a gift from my boyfriend, hide water bottles inside, so dogs can smash them without cutting themselves. So far Albright has hogged them both.

We got them to make up long enough to take this picture, at least.

As far as the human Christmas went, well, my dreams came true:

A gallon of giardiniera and this Carl Kasell autograph pillow. These were my truest Christmas wishes. Nothing I just said was facetious. 

            

Eerily enough, my phone thinks Carl's face is a real human face. Is NPR bugging my house?  Is this pillow just a big microphone cover? Is Carl actually 14 inches tall and hiding in that pillow?  Something's amiss here. 

But probably not as amiss as the way I asked my mother to hide my pillow at the foot of my bed on Christmas morning, Godfather-style, right? (She didn't.)

 

 

Innocent cuddling aside, I know Carl will be busy with photobombs and other pranks when he's not keeping score on my couch. A post for another day.

Thanks, Santa! Now, as my father always says, "Christmas is over and business is business."