Dear Santa,
I've been a good doggy mom all year. I've fed, cleaned
and cuddled my dogs on demand, visited the Vet's office more than my own
doctor, spend more on their shampoos and conditioners than I do for myself, and
most of the time they are groomed better than I am. I was hoping you could
spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter
with my a black marker pen on the back of a dog food receipt in the laundry
room between cycles of dog bedding, and who knows when I'll find any more free
time in the near future with puppies coming and dog shows on the he horizon.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color,
except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the
breeze; but are strong enough to put my struggling dog into the tub for a bath.
I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere,
from eating dog show food, oh, and at least three show outfits and some jeans
that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like
nose-print resistant windows, floors that clean themselves, and a refrigerator
with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to eat my own
snacks without having to share with a pack of barking maniacs.
On the practical side, I could use a battery operated
dog that is always stacked perfectly and moves to perfection on my command to
boost my showing confidence, along with at least two bitches who don't bump
each other to start a fight.
I could also use a recording of The Dog Whisperer
chanting "Don't pee in the living room" and "Get off of her, she
is not in heat" because my voice seems to be just out of my dog's hearing
range and can only be heard by the next door neighbors who are at least an acre
away.
If it's too late to find any of these things, I'd
settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning,
or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being
served in a Styrofoam container at a dog show.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas
miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to
declare a doggy lock down session? It will clear my conscience immensely when I
look at those miserable little faces.
It would be helpful if you could coerce my husband and
children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the
bosses of an organized crime family because after all, this is for MY Dogs!
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and
some of my dogs saw my feet under the laundry room door. They think I am eating
dinner in here again and they are missing out on leftovers.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots
by the door and look down so that you don't step into an "accident".
I would have left cookies, but between the dogs and
the cat, there is no chance that anything other than drool will be left on the
plate. I left you a Hot Toddy to warm you from the cold, but after a day like
this, I drank it myself.
Yours Always,
Doggy Mom
P.S. One more thing ... you can cancel all my requests
if you can keep my "doggy kids" in perfect show coats so that they
win at the shows.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah
(Jodi Eckardt, Luvsong Maltese, Yorkies and a Tibetan
Terrier)
*****
I would like to thank www.TheDogPlace.org for the kind
permission to publish this poem on my blog.
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