I Need To File A Grievance

 It is routine that when I come in from outside, I bring in a gift. What socialite doesn't show up at a house without a gift?

Some gifts are very lovely sticks (slightly chewed), or maybe a very delicate rock, the bigger the better. 

The host is supposed to take the gift, make a lot of fuss about how wonderful the gift is, and then give their guest a piece of cheese. The host then displays the lovely gift for all to see.

That's the ritual!

Today I came in with a very special stick. Not just any stick, this stick was cultivated from one of the trees in my yard (do you have any idea how much work goes into the selection of sticks?), and I gnawed on the end to make it look like... some form of something, and I carried it up the deck stairs, politely knocked on the door, and entered the abode.

My Host (Bleeder) told me what a lovely stick it was, but I can tell she was faking it. Something about "not enough coffee" or "you hogged the bed and I didn't get a lot of sleep" or "why am I awake at 0500 on a weekend".

I gently plooped the stick onto the kitchen floor, waiting for a better, more exuberant response, when Bleeder shuffles over to the dog treat section, breaks off a woefully small bit of a Pupp-a-roni and then says (are you ready for this) "Well?" when I didn't run up and take it.

"well??" Like I'm supposed to feel honored and loved with a bit of pre-processed dog treat that I get for low end accomplishments, like getting into bed and not clawing and stomping on them? Like I get as a secondary bribe for going into my crate when they go places? THIS? THIS is all you're giving me for my gift?

I'm not feeling very honored or welcome here! The topper was that Bleeder fed me the treat, and then threw my stick in the trash can... RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! Something about "it's too big for the rock bowl". Too big? It's a piece of art! It should be framed and hung on the wall! That stick is a miracle of nature and artistry wrapped into one!

Her only saving grace from certain bandaids was that apparently it was a thing called Christmas, where gifts are given, and there's supposed to be all sorts of hoopla, a big tree (that would have been fun) and merriment, but it was generally another day called "Saturday" around here, but I did get gifts in the form of squeaky toys without stuffing.

I love squeaky toys, and I love stuffing. I don't like when I can't poop out the stuffing, and neither does Toast and Bleeder, so for my safety and their sanity, I get unstuffed squeaker toys, and yesterday I hit the motherlode.

Now I have two ducks, a kangaroo, and some other things... I can't remember because I was told that I could only have old duck and one new squishy toy at a time, so I picked the Roo. The rest went up for "when I destroy these two). So far I've turned Roo inside out, removed the velcro (you can stick a plastic bottle up it's hoo-ha for crinkly chewing, but I like eating velcro, so that doesn't last), and gutted one squeaker already. The 2nd squeaker was punctured and doesn't squeak, but it's still fun to chew on.

Wallowing in a squeaker wonderland

I've also surgically removed the squeaker out of a blue tennis ball and peeled the skin off, and then topped off the night with a Bully Bone chew.

I also dug three wonderful holes because it was sunny and 65 degrees here. I was promised snow, but you have to make holes out of disappointments.

Overall, it was a good Christmas. It would have been better if they had given me some of that tasty sirloin roast they had for dinner, but meh.