What I enjoy most about wrapping presents isn't the joy of knowing that the person who will receive the gift will be oh so happy; it is not about getting it finally done; it is not about the anticipation of the joyous occasion. It is the cardboard tube that is left over from all the wrapping. It is the great fun I find in holding it over my shoulder, taking a stance like Jeter about to nail one, and waiting for Enzo to come galloping around the corner. Thwack! On the butt and he scatters, he soars, he leaps, he slides across the floor and around the corner and stops moving. For a few seconds, he just stops moving and then takes three tentative steps toward me. I pull the tube back over my shoulder, he runs backwards (have you ever seen a dog run backwards - it's hysterical) and I chase him with it.
This is how I spent the first ten minutes of the morning - before coffee or anything else. Cathartic.
And guess who is behaving? Could it be the dog that has eaten three of Paige's books in the past two days?Could it be the one that destroyed his dog bed and everything else in his crate? Could it be the one who puked up a baby bird that landed inches from Paige's pajamaed feet? Or is it the one that weighs 80 pounds with the mentality of a three year old child wild with disrespect and chocolate? Or maybe the one that lifted his leg on the Poinsetta plant during dinner the other night?
This is going to be a good day. This is going to be a good weekend. I have loads and loads and loads of presents to wrap. Plenty of cardboard tubes. One dog.
Me and one dog.
Who will win?
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1 comment:
Dogs help, don't they? Your last few posts sort of package up the sadness, fear, grief and anticipation of facing another strange holiday season, but its the love, dummy. Lets celebrate the love that still surrounds us and makes us warm on these cold, miserable days. We should all reach our inner Enzo...a reckless type of joy that comes with the awareness that we are alive. Time to lift our legs and piss if we feel like it.
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