Holidays ...?

In this land, humans call the few weeks at the end of each year “the holidays”.  I have to admit to being a little confused as to how these weeks earn this name as they are anything but a holiday.  Our humans put a big tree in the house covered with lots of sparkly toys which adds extra duties to my usual security detail as Tobermory thinks the toys are there for his benefit and it’s my job to stop him eating them.

It all starts when Mummy puts red and white fluffy collars with little bells on us before going for our neighborhood sniff after the sun has gone to bed.  We stand in a field in the middle of our town with lots of other similarly humiliatingly clad dogs and their humans until a big tree suddenly lights up with lots of brightly colored stars.  I don’t really understand what the fuss is about, but humans amuse easily and get very excited about it, especially the small ones.

 

And then there’s the annual photo shoot.  Mummy seems to think it’s necessary to send a picture of us sitting with an old dude who doesn’t seem to think there’s a problem with wearing a red body cover with white fluffy trim.  This year she excelled herself by making us wear antlers too.  We tried to shake them off but the human with the picture box was too quick.  The only comfort I can find in having to suffer this indignity is that to get these pictures, Mummy has to give some of the green stuff that buys dog biscuits to help dogs less fortunate than us.

 

Of course, our security duty gets dramatically increased during this time which leaves little time for writing.  All the kennels in our neighborhood have extra motorized dog carriers outside, necessitating increased vigilance when it comes to threat assessment.  On top of this, there is one day when lots of humans come and go from our kennel all afternoon.  We sit at the entrance and try to count them in and out, but even with 16 toes, 2 ears and a tail each, it can be really easy to lose track.  The only upside is that the humans leave lots of toys and treats under the tree that we get to play with the next morning.

 

At last the tree has hibernated in the garage until the next holiday season and all the toys have crawled back into their boxes under the stairs.  Finally we get a chance to relax and return life to normal.

Talisker