A Lonely Dog on Christmas
Dog on Christmas
By Patrick Yearly
Copyright 2012 Patrick Yearly
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or incidents, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Christmas is Coming
Christmas Eve
Christmas Morning
Christmas Afternoon
Christmas Dinner
Christmas is Coming
Christmas is the pits. That's right, you heard me. Worst time of the year. If you can just hold on for a minute I'll tell you why. The more you hear me out then you'll realize that I'm right. To begin with, what's the big deal about Christmas? Everybody always gets so stressed out. It's supposed to be a time for fun and laughter and creating lasting memories with family and friends. After that comes peace and harmony, love and understanding and all of that other nonsense. Naturally, the boatloads of presents are what matter the most. But I just don't get it. Maybe it's because I'm five. And I'm a dog.
If it were up to me we'd charge ahead from Thanksgiving and blaze into New Year's Day and leave December choking in the dust. There's just too much going on and not enough time left for the meaningful things, like lying around and doing nothing. It all starts at Halloween. Some of the costumes are a bit scary for me, but the candy part is definitely the highlight. I try my damndest to run off as many kids as possible by barking as loud as I can, but I always wind up getting put down in that miserable basement with the door shut. Treated like an outcast in my own house, rather rude if you ask me. My game plan each year is to terrorize the kids so they hightail it away from here before they reach the front door. It's a simple strategy, less kids means more candy for me. Somehow, it never seems to work.
But enough Halloween talk, I'm here to whine about the holiday season, specifically Christmas Day. I can deal with November. Actually, the first two weeks of the month can be quite gorgeous here in Northern Virginia with bright and warm afternoons livening up the time I get to go out and play in the yard. There are always plenty of colorful leaves to kick around and eat. A word of caution though if you ever get hungry: brown leaves just aren't nearly as tasty as the red and yellow ones. Once Thanksgiving week rolls around the weather starts to turn and sometimes it can get downright cold. That's also when the busy season starts and my attitude heads south along with the birds. I can't stand them by the way. Cats will always remain Dog Enemy Number One, but birds are definitely in the conversation.
Thanksgiving Day can be a good or bad day, it all depends if there's anyone here at the house. If the family gets invited to head over to pig out at one of the relatives, then I'm screwed. No gourmet meal with the trimmings for me, just the same old drab dog food. But when they stay here and fire up a feast there's plenty to chow down on. I sleep enough as it is, but wow, that tryptophan in the turkey knocks me out even twice as long. The more I think about it, I'm done after dinner until Black Friday morning. So how can I be a dog and smart enough to know about something like Black Friday? It all comes down to one thing - cable TV, the Wikipedia of dog smarts. Ask me anything about news, sports, fashion, weather, celebrity gossip, World War II history. Oh, I can't leave out food. Yep, I've got all the answers to everything. If all you only did when you're awake is sit in front of the television, walk around the block, run in the yard and, of course, eat, you'd have plenty of time for home schooling. I can tell you whatever you need to know. Of course I'm speaking hypothetically, I can't give you any of the answers because I can't talk. You'll just have to go along with me on this. If you're wondering how I'm able to sound so educated, you would be too if you spent countless hours watching reality television, the backbone of higher learning. Some of us dogs are actually smarter than we seem and some of us are dumber than we look.
Now that I've got all of that out of the way I can go into my tirade about Christmas Day. And, by the way, since I'm airing my grievances I should add that Christmas Eve isn't much better. The season itself isn't so bad, it's those two days that really chap my ass. I know what I said before about doing away with the whole month of December, but since this is my story I should have the right to mangle it if I want to.
So, to start at the beginning, I live with the Mathison's at 1521 Morning Glory Court. For security reasons, I can't reveal the name of the town. That's not really true, I just said that to make you think we're more important than we really are. Ryan and Karla run the place. Derek's the oldest kid, he's 21 and goes to Moron State. Not the fastest piston in the engine, but he treats me well. He may be the first student in history to graduate and retire in the same year. Kaley is 19 and there's more hope for her. She attends the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, that's about a two hour drive south of here. She's quite thin and attractive and plays a sport there involving a stick or a foot, I'm not sure which. Young Matt is only six and we hang out a lot together. I guess in adult speak he was a 'mistake', if you know what I mean.
Karla found me as a pup in a pet store over at the town center, barely a mile from here. She said I was special and stood out from the crowd. Compared to the other uglies they had behind bars there, of course I was irresistible. When I walked in the front door for the first time I was welcomed with open arms, except for Matt who stepped on my foot. He gets a pass on that one since he wasn't yet a year old. I'm lucky to have such a good family to live with. Of course, there are areas of improvement I've identified for each of them, but since I can't write or talk, the odds of getting my recommended changes implemented are nonexistent. For me, as long as I don't pee on the carpet I'm meeting standards. They call me Beckham after David Beckham, the superstar soccer player. I'm an English bulldog and he's from England and, if you've ever seen a picture of him, that's where the similarity ends. I enjoy antiquing, reading romance novels and playing my cherished violin. Not really, my day primarily consists of walking around in circles.
That's all you need to know about us for now. I have to return to focus on my outrage about Christmas. The curtain for the first act of the circus always rises when Ryan valiantly tries to put up the outside lights over Thanksgiving weekend. Two years ago, he connected all of the cords together, plugged them into one socket and proceeded to blow out sixty dollars worth of decorations. He had to go back to the store and buy several new sets of lights and do it all over again. Other people are on the lookout for bargain discount prices while Ryan manages to double the cost of his purchases. Edison would have been proud. Another blunder takes place each year when the wreath is mounted on the front door. Ryan always forgets to make sure it's securely attached to the hook. The first time a visitor doesn't ring the doorbell and tries to knock, the wreath goes crashing down onto the front porch cement floor. At this point, it looks like it's been put through a paper shredder. There's also a mechanical deer with white twinkling lights on the front lawn that used to slowly bend it's neck up and down. But awhile back the neck got stuck looking skyward and it just stays in that position now. Most people say it looks like it needs to go to the chiropractor.
While Ryan rolls out his vision of an above average outdoor winter wonderland, Karla is hard at work getting all of the indoor decorations in place. I've lost track of the number of boxes she brings out of the crawl space. Of course, I can't count so that could be part of
the problem. She seems to really enjoy finding just the right place in every room for the hand crafted ornaments she's collected through the years. By Sunday afternoon, everyone has chipped in to trim the artificial tree and Derek and Kaley have been shoved out the door and are headed back to college, only to return for the holidays in just a few more weeks. Before you know it, Christmas Eve will be here and then the problems begin for me. This year, I won't let it happen yet again. This year, I'm out for revenge!
Christmas Eve
“Derek, where have you been? You know we have to get the house ready. It's nearly six o'clock and you're just walking in the door! Your father and I would like a few minutes to relax tonight too. Get a move on it. I need you to empty out the dishwasher without breaking half the dishes. And whatever presents you bought need to be put underneath the tree."
"Chill Mom. What's there to eat for dinner?" Derek looks like he's been rolling in mud for several hours. The dirt marks from his shoes should match up well on the light green carpet.
"It's on the dining room table. We've got Chinese from Fu Wong's and pizza from The Italian Cafe. It's still warm, they both delivered a short