It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

What a glorious weekend for this remarkable old curmudgeon of a pug. Traveling with Mom to the Cape on Friday was only the beginning of our journey. We surprised Grandpa at his art show opening and then celebrated his birthday on Saturday. Even though the temperature was quite cold, we enjoyed a hike through the woods at Eagle Pond, my favorite destination. The smells were particularly pungent and I wandered unfettered off the trails, exploring each scent that took my fancy.

Sunday was the icing on the proverbial cake, though. It was the annual Christmas party at our Cape Cod vet’s hospital. When the four of us trotted into the waiting room, the audible ooh’s and aah’s gladdened my attention-seeking heart. People were visibly moved by the spectacle we created and naturally, I garnered the lion’s share of this acclaim.

I quickly assessed the situation, ascertained that the popcorn machine was running smoothly, dog biscuits were plentiful, and human food covered a huge buffet style table. All was well. I knew we’d have to earn our rewards, however, because Santa was sitting in front of the fireplace waiting to hold us for the taking of pictures. Ah, what price fame! We were four highly compliant canines and the results are nothing short of spectacular.

Mom happily threw popcorn and dog treats into our snapping maws while people came to admire our catching skills and general cuteness. Grandma, however, always the voice of reason, started to “harsh my mellow” by suggesting that perhaps we’d had enough since she would have to deal with  the consequences later in the evening. I flashed my glistening eyes in Mom’s direction, beseeching her with a silent eloquence, that she should ignore Grandma and just keep feeding us. Mom unfortunately decided it was time to go since she had to catch a train in Providence for New York.

That night, sleeping in Grandpa’s office, I was awakened several times by stomach rumblings and distress. Even the trusty but loathsome diaper could not contain what my bowels were producing. When Grandpa came to fetch us this morning, my diaper was in the corner and evidence of my discomfort left a vivid trail around his office. I felt bad but unfortunately there was no help for it.

They say it is the season for giving and receiving. I received and I gave.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Have you ever seen more fetching beasts? I think the photo would be significantly improved, however, if Grandma would crop out the three others.