Dear Santa Paws

     I have been a really good dog.  

     I have learned to sort of not do my business in the house.

     I have shredded lots of things....that is what dogs do and I work very hard at doing it right.

     I have only rolled in the most delectable things that I have found outside, although Mom and Dad do not always agree on this.

     I try really hard to be nice to Tigger the cat.  I only bite him when it is appropriate.

     I only bark when it is necessary, morning time, afternoon time and night time.

     I have learned lots of tricks.  I can sit, but not stay very well, shake hands, lay down, roll over and stand pretty on my back legs...which I think is silly, but I still do it.

     I have done my very best to chase the Nasty Cat out of the yard. He is really mean and does not need any presents.

     Mom has brought a tree into the house and I have not yet used it for its intended purpose.... she did hang some really neat bells on the bottom of it, but I don't know why.

     I am very nice to all the humans that come into my house.  I jump on them over and over and over again to make them feel welcomed.  Plus, I make sure they leave with some white dog hair on their apparel.

     Mom told me the Christmas story, about the little baby in the manger who came to make things better for us all.  I hope he likes dogs.

     Mom said that I could write you a letter and tell you all the things I want for Christmas but I can't think of anything I really need.  I have a nice home and I love my peeps very much.  They provide just about everything I need to get through the day....food and water in my bowls and a warm lap to sit in and sometimes, Santa, I get to sleep in their bed.....all night!...that is most special!

     I guess maybe I do need something because today I got a really bad ow-wee.  I was playing fetch with my favorite red collar.  I was running as fast as I can run, to catch my red collar, but forgot to watch were I was going.  I ran right into the edge of the doorway going out of the kitchen.  It hurt really bad and I spent all day looking sad, pitiful and wrapped up in a blanket.  So, Santa, if it is not too much trouble, I would like a doorway bumper pad.

     And maybe just one more thing, Santa.  Dad has to leave soon and Mom says he will be gone for quite awhile.  I will miss him.  If you could, make sure Dad finds a place that likes dogs.....and cats.

     Thank-you in advance and Merry Christmas to you!

     Yours Most Sheddingly,

      Runtly 

     

     

      

Here We Go.......Again?

     Once upon a time, there was a wasp.  The wasp was sitting on a wooden hand rail, eating something sweet.  I do not recall exactly what it was eating, but I found it rather fascinating.  I went into the house and returned with a small amount of jelly on a spoon.  I took my finger and placed a bit of the jelly in front of the wasp.  To my delight, the wasp eagerly devoured the jelly.  I gave the wasp more jelly and again, the wasp ate it.  I continued to do this, thinking how cool it was to be feeding a wasp, until something happened.......The wasp stung me.

     If my memory serves me right, I believe that was the last time I was ever stung.  I had learned a valuable lesson.......do not test the laws of nature.  The laws of the universe were set into motion for a reason.  They keep things in order.  They do not hold within them prejudice or preference, they simply exist.  They do not care if we break them because they will continue on, as they have done since the beginning, throughout infinity

     I'm breaking one of my new year's resolutions, to stay out of stuff in the news.  With the recent rampage in California, I can't help but tip toe through the politically correct mess this country is in.  If a spade is a spade, then it should not be called a diamond, club, heart, rake or a hoe.  It's a spade.  If we play with fire, eventually we will get burned.  If we continue to think we can rationalize with folks who DO NOT share our way of life or belief systems and use all means of force to prove it, we will continue to be found holding the short end of the stick.  If we continue to cry for gun control, then by all means, throw nuts, bolts, screws, nails, galvanized pipe, pressure cookers, remote controlled cars, backpacks and a can of green beans into the mix.  If there was ever a call for confiscation of our weapons, by what means do you think they would take them?

     We know the tree by the fruit it produces.  The same is true with people, by their fruits we shall know them.  Actions speak louder than words. 

     Kevin Richardson, the guy who plays with lions, knows full well the danger he may find himself in some day.  He knows that he is testing the laws.  The late Steve Irwin, who spent and gave his life with all kinds of wildlife, also knew he was pushing the envelope on the laws of nature.  If Steve was still around today, I believe we would hear him saying, "Danger, danger, danger!"

Never The Same

     The holiday season is upon us.  That time of the year when we think it is necessary to consume more carbohydrates in thirty days than we have the entire eleven months prior.  A time when many people lose whatever was left of their grey matter and stand in line for hours, to purchase some new gadget that will lose its luster in another thirty days.   A time to bring on unnecessary stress.  A time for trees, lights and music that have been neatly tucked away in the attic, closet, garage or basement. 
     
     For most, it is a happy time of the year as they anticipate seeing friends and family that have been far away.  Or the excitement of seeing young faces filled with joy when they realize someone really did read their list.  A time of magic and wonder.

     Then, there are those who would rather fast forward to the first part of a new year, bypassing all the hubbub.  Those who have lost. Their loss comes in many forms.  It could be the loss of a loved one, through death or the fact that they just up and left.  It could be the loss of a dear friendship due to some silly misunderstanding.  It could be the loss of a job that has left them with a daunting feeling of not knowing what lies before them.  

     For whatever reason they suffer, the pieces of their hearts have been rearranged.  There are tiny gaps, or gaping holes, between the pieces that never quite fit back together.  They try to put on a happy face, but on the inside they are like the picture hanging on the wall. The picture that is just a little off kilter.  They straighten it, for outward appearances, but it does not take long for it to shift out of line.  They are like the stick of butter that has been allowed to melt on the dish and then put back into the refrigerator.  It's still butter, but it's not quite the same.

     Remember these people.  Keep their best interests in mind when it seems necessary to talk about our own good fortune.  Listen and be sincere if they feel the need to let some of their sorrow slip between the cracks and drip into the open.  Remember the reason for the season and be grateful because those who have lost are never the same.