This past Sunday we decorated our tree. And our dogs.

After our week long escapade to the sunny south for Thanksgiving vacation, we’re really looking forward to Christmas at home, and the wet wintry weather was a perfect excuse to stay indoors and get cozy with the lovely NC fraser fir that Sarah’s ma brought us from the mountains. Our standard tree decorating package consists of lights and ornaments. The lights have in the past been your typical tiny white twinklers, but this year we took a leap in the other direction and threw on a couple strands of multi-colored big bopper bulbs. It’s totally retro and totally awesome. The ornament collection is made up of yearly gifts from Sarah’s Nana, a few annual purchases from our early Christmases and some random hand-me-downs from our families. Theme or color palette? Heck no. We don’t play that game. And I’m pretty sure we’ll never join the fake tree club. Unless of course they make a documentary about how NC fraser firs are the downfall of society, the single greatest cause of global warming or a contributor to the obesity epidemic. We could be swayed.

About the dogs. Apparently Graycie and Jake were none to happy with their holiday habits which they chose to express in a creative and surprising outburst while we were out running errands and seeing a movie. Pause for background information…

Weimaraners are notorious sufferers of separation anxiety which they generally declare with destruction that ranges from scratching at doors to chewing through wood furniture. Knowing this lead us to crate train our babies for the first 7 years of their lives. When we left the house, they went to their beds. Once and only once in the early years did we make the mistake of leaving them out (and it truly was a mistake as we each thought the other had put them up) and we returned to a few chewed shirts and a pen that been eaten to the point of explosion all over our duvet cover. But as they got older and calmer we experimented with brief moments of cratelessness, and we soon had packed the crates away as they were very well behaved even for several hours. That is, until Sunday…

Upon returning home Sarah immediately noticed a strong odor of maple syrup and thought not much of it as we did have pancakes for breakfast. We came through the hall door and the first sign of trouble was a chewed up purple plastic bowl. But where did said bowl come from? Those bowls are kept up high in a cabinet. Did they somehow get into the dishwasher? Step by step, as we entered the dining room the disaster unfolded before our eyes and within seconds the puzzle was solved. Our precious little pups had taken it upon themselves to drag from our pantry basket a cacauphony of treats including two packets of quaker oatmeal, three mini cliff bars and 18, we shit you not, fruit and nut granola bars. Wrappers were strewn across the floor, tiny pieces of purple plastic adorned the rug and flakes of oatmeal were found as far as the bedroom. In the moment it was incredibly aggravating, and after scolding the pups we spent the next hour completely ignoring them which Graycie was acutely aware of and so proceeded to follow Sarah’s every step looking up at her and wagging her tail like mommy pleeeeeease love me! But in hindsight (and after discovering that a certain someone may have grabbed a granola bar and may not have pushed the pantry basket all the way back and so maybe, just maybe it was a little too easy for the dogs to treat themselves) we can laugh about it. The dogs have since thrown up a bit and had some interesting movements, but neither are super sick, the granola bars have been replaced, and we’ll consider not forcing the pups into ridiculous costumes for our entertainment anytime soon.

Only 9 days ’till Christmas!


One thought on “

  1. deej

    Yay Sar-Bear and Peter’s Peter and baby elder!!! i, too, hope to be a fertile myrtle one day. i can’t wait to see the three of you’s guys!


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