Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Free To A Good Home...If Home Isn't Decorated

The Christmas season was a lot more relaxing and enjoyable when it was just the Nova Scotia Country Boy and me and the old dog (who wasn't that old back then).
Now, we've added two wild animals to the mix. Not wild as in feral but wild as in "If you don't smarten up, you're sleeping in the garage tonight".
On my lunch hour at home alone yesterday, I was distracted by a chicken wandering around the yard. In my haste to wrangle her back in the pen with her sisters as I left to go back to work, I forgot to put the younger dog, Wild Thing #1, in her crate.
I didn't know this until the Country Boy asked me after work, "Did you forget to put Abby back in her crate at lunch?"
Anyone who asks a question like that...already knows the answer.
"What did she do?" I asked.
If I wasn't so mad at her, I'd be impressed with her intelligence. For several weeks, the bags of Christmas shopping have been piling up on the floor of the spare room; some chocolate stocking stuffers were in the bags. As soon as I left the house, that damn dog went upstairs to the spare room, ate through a bag and consumed a small bag of M&Ms and a small bag of mini Reese cups. I can't find the Reese bag but my husband caught her in the act of munching on the M&Ms.
I met him on my way back to work so that dog perpetrated her crime within 15 minutes.
All I want for Christmas is a way to channel her brain power for good instead of evil.
The other problem pet in our house, Wild Thing #2, is the year-old cat. We didn't decorate inside at all last year, partly because we were heading south on the 26th but also because of him. We set up the lighted artificial palm tree and he spent several weeks happily hanging around on the top (and nuking the lights wrapped around the trunk on his way up). He's on top of all the furniture now and making a meal of any flowers I try to put out (most recently a lovely combination of white carnations and red roses).
So this mornning, my yoga practice sounded like this:
"Archie! Get of the mantle."
Crash, thunk.
"You stupid cat."
Munch, munch, munch.
About the time I was ready for the final relaxation (and feeling more tense than when I stepped onto the mat), Archie decided it was time for his pre-breakfast nap. All was calm. Or rather, Wild Thing #2 was calm. Yoga Thing was still trying to get to her happy place.
Suddenly, Christmas shopping has become a lot easier: Since Abby and Archie are too naughty to get anything -- if they even survive until December 25 -- I'm back to buying just for the Country Boy and the old dog.

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