Dog Day Christmas

I have spent the last three days trying to distract my dog from the Christmas tree.  Unless the poor girl is distracted by things that dogs become distracted by (other dogs, sausage, the ping of the carbon monoxide detector), she has been trying to solve the rubik’s cube that is getting to her presents.  And yes, she knows she has presents.  Call it my mother sending strong mental signals from Missouri to her granddog or just plain ‘ol quality puppy products, but the holiday gift box that my animal child has received is scented to a degree that calls on her wild animal senses.  

The first indication that she suspected something occurred after leaving her side for a moment brief enough to only grab a glass of water.  Upon returning, she was in the exact same position I had left her, only now joined by a brand new toy, sitting at her feet.  “And HOW did you get THAT?” I asked, obviously impressed and wanting her to know.  Her response was to stare.  

Because round one was so successful she spent day two standing as if made of stone, snout pointed toward the back of the tree, face in the sap covered limbs, until I made her a deal.  Yes, I would give her another “early Xmas gift” if she would cool it.  I didn’t wait for a response but instead reached dramatically into the gift box to reveal a *gasp!* genuine elk bone.  Lily sat instinctively, as though I might decide her demonstration of of the most basic of commands might seal the deal.  

Her elk bone, while substantial, broke into two pieces as she gently lunged for it.  Eyeing me suspiciously, she paused for a moment with one half in her mouth and backed into the living room.  Her gaze never left me as her jaw went slack, letting the bone hit the carpeted floor five feet from where I stood.  Still maintaining eye contact she sprinted back to the discarded piece, promptly grabbing it and sashayed, tail up, to devour her femur.  
Day three.  I don’t know what is left in the gift box.  I don’t want to know.  Possibly a stuffed animal, maybe a bull pizzle, perhaps a baked good.  What Lily doesn’t understand is that it is not, in fact Christmas yet.  I have now distracted her from her Grandmother’s gifts by bribing her from MY Christmas gifts…. Which means I will now have to buy her new gifts.  And yet… she is not fooled.  




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