Christmas was an important day for me, and not just because the night before Santa and the Grinch both visited, to varying success. My parents were going to Mommy’s brother’s house, leaving me behind, which I did not like, but it was going to be the first time that they left, and did not put me in my crate, I would be home alone, and queen of the castle.
I was anxious all day. My parents were going out at sunset, and while I waited I got an allotment of snuggle time to make up for what I would be missing. I also planned out the things I would do that evening.
First, I would take care of the tree imposter in my living room, and the Nutcracker soldiers who protected them. I planned to outflank it by approaching from behind Mom’s recliner sneak up on the soldiers then attack the tree from their left flank, roll up the enlisted men, summit the tree skirt, and pee on it, proclaiming it as my own. Once I have gained control of the tree I will order its removal from my living room.
I also had some rudimentary plans to get on a kitchen chair, on the kitchen table, then leap the ten-foot cavern between it and the counter where the treats are kept. River tried it once, to no avail, except smashing her head against the cabinet door, leaving a big dent, and a bigger mystery for my parents to untangle.
While I was excited by my new adventure I still gave my parents a sad, pathetic look when they left. Leaving them such a look on departure guarantees a guilty parent and as the old saying goes “Guilty parent, happy dog.”
I watched them leave from my spot standing at the kitchen window, then, as a child left home alone for the first time, I looked around the house, deciding what fun I could have going into places called the “Forbidden Zone.” (That is also what my Mommy, when talking to Daddy calls his private parts.)
I took two steps away from the window, then thought I heard something outside so I went to the window and barked for ten minutes, then started to walk away again, thought I heard something, and repeated the barking. This went on for four hours. Sometimes I climbed on a kitchen chair to have a better view of the driveway and barked. I even made it to the couch and sat down for s second until I heard a cardinal burp and went back to the window barking.
This continued for three and a half hours before my vigilance paid off when my parents got home. I was elated until I saw my Dad pick up the door camera and put it back outside.
So the entire time they were spying on me. I thought they trusted me. It was the biggest Christmas betrayal since the Holiday Inn manager switched the sign to “No vacancy” when he saw Joseph and a pregnant Mary approaching.
Incensed, I planned to withhold my affections, to not sleep with them, to make them beg me for forgiveness.
Then they fed me and I forgot the whole thing.
Dogs don’t hold grudges.
But, next time they go out I am going to put on a huge show for the camera.
If I can just get away from the kitchen window.
