We dogs don’t tend to pay much attention to calendars. Seasons are important, but which day of which month it is, not so much. However, as part of my continuing education in being human, I’m trying to appreciate the holidays celebrated by humans. And, admittedly, Christmas was pretty cool, even for a dog. Pancakes and turkey on Christmas Day, presents (I got a big bone), walks in new places, and visiting with people–what’s not to like?
Nollind’s parents, David and Laurana, came for lunch on Christmas Eve, and they are always good for a bunch of attention. On Christmas Day, we were invited along for dinner to the home of Michelle, Guy, Meghan and Mark (Michelle keeps her horse here at the farm). We put on our best red and green bandanas and were off to join in the festivities, which included a plate of turkey scraps once dinner was over (favourite part).
Boxing Day was to be more visiting in Calgary and I was right there at the door ready to go. After they drove off, I sat staring at the door for awhile, certain they’d come back for me. I was willing to wear the bandana again…even the antlers. But, they didn’t come. Sigh…
Just when I thought the festivities were finished for the year, it was New Year’s Eve and T & Nollind were drinking champagne and toasting the coming year. Each new day is exciting to me but I suppose a fresh year is something to celebrate. Our part of the celebration came the next day when we went along to the Glenmore Sailing Club‘s annual New Year’s Day potluck. Well, we went along as far as the parking lot and had a walk when T & Nollind were through eating and visiting. (No dogs allowed in the club.)
So I guess you’ve heard the news. We’re not going south this year. I was pretty bummed at first, until we went for a walk in the snow that fell just before Christmas. It’s such great stuff to run in, roll in, dig in, play in. As much as I love the desert, dashing through the snow is tough to beat.
And now that there’s just enough snow for T to ski on, the leashes get left at home and we dogs are able to take the odd “side-trip”. T’s afraid I’ll pull her over if she puts a leash on me. She’s probably right. Best leave me free to roam. Besides, I always come back, once I’m finished chasing whatever it was that had me running off in the first place. Last week we chased after a coyote and I came home with the rabbit he’d just caught. T’s still wondering if I caught it myself. Are you kidding? Have you seen how fast those big hares can run? Maybe if I had a snowmobile.