Thursday, 26 December 2013

Christmas Day

It is Christmas time again and we just love it!  Everyone is in a good mood and there are lots of little treats for well-behaved dogs.

On Christmas Eve we were put to be bed with strict instructions about barking at odd noises on the roof during the night. Apparently, these noises would be caused not by possums playing football (as is the usual practice with possums at this time of the year) but by Santa landing his kangaroo-pulled sleigh up there.

So we slept peacefully and awake to find that our Christmas tree…with which we had dutifully avoided all contact as per the Rules of Christmas agreement of 2007…had been surrounded by parcels.

I was given the highly important job of opening the parcels.  I am supremely talented in this area.  My ripping and tearing skills are unsurpassed.  Heidi helped by barking encouragement.

Some parcels are tougher than others.  Humans have a tendency to overuse the sticky tape but I managed to open every single package under that tree.  I was informed that I was being retained as  the Official Christmas Parcel Opener for Christmas 2014.  Yes!

Here is what was in the parcels that had 'Heidi' and 'Trudy' labels on them.  We were very happy with Santa and very glad that we had not frightened him off when he visited our house.  It is easy to understand why one should not bark at him when he delivers such goodies.  I was prepared to hoe in and demolish the lot right away but Mum, in her infinite wisdom, said that would not be happening. We had to socialise with the visitors and have our photos taken.

Heidi is able to sit up and look particularly cute for photos.  She has what Mum calls a "barrel butt" which allows for perfect weight distribution when sitting. I, on the other hand, am long and leggy…a very attractive attribute in blondes, according to Dad….so when I attempt the sitting up posture, I fail spectacularly and topple over.  So I don't even bother trying so as not to embarrass myself.  I simply sit and offer a paw for shaking.

Finally it was time for food.  Mum had made the table ready for everyone and our visitors had all brought food with them so there were heaps of yummy smells in our house.

The humans ate and we ate.  The humans laughed and chatted and we took a nap.  The visitors eventually left and we ate some more…so did Dad.

Well, after such an exhausting day, I needed a good solid snooze so I found a comfy spot and settled in.

Dad lay down on the couch and snored and I snored in the chair beside him.

I really like Christmas.  :) Woof!

Friday, 13 December 2013

Surprising behaviour

I have been informed that there are people out there who have been wondering why communication from me has been sparse lately.
Well, I have been surprisingly well-behaved…at least according to Dad. Mum might tell a different story but she has been too busy to tell dad about my adventurous lifestyle.

 Dad doesn't know about the set of pyjamas that he left on the chair in the bedroom that somehow found its way out to the palm trees.  I thought I had buried those jammies really well but Mum with her eagle-eyesight and somewhat suspicious nature spotted them. They were then dug up, washed and returned to their rightful place under Dad's pillow with his being none the wiser. Several pots of bromeliads suffered by way of retaliation I might add.  My treasures should remain where I bury them.
 Dad does not know about the two bread rolls that he had earmarked for his lunch that filled a passing pup's tummy last weekend.  Mum did a hasty bakery run to buy replacement rolls (and a couple of doughnuts for afternoon tea). He's spoilt, that Dad of ours.
 Dad does not know about the semi chewed sock and its mate that had to be thrown out because Mum decreed that the toe-less look was out of fashion this year.  She popped a new pair of socks into Dad's drawer to replace the mutilated ones.
 Dad doesn't know that the bathroom was particularly sparkling on Thursday because Mum had to mop it twice that day after I chose to throw up a mess of partially digested toad on the tiles.  I thought it was preferable to throw up in the bathroom than on the carpet. Mum agreed with this philosophy but gave me the lecture about chewing up road kill for the seventy-second time anyway.
So, I believe that what Dad doesn't know won't bother him and will ensure that I continue to receive a good cuddle from him every night.