our adventures, laughs, and unforgettable moments. This Christmas was the first
I spent on this beautiful farm, and it was a whirlwind I still relish!Our saga began with a rambunctious windstorm ripping through our trees, strewn
with ornaments. Grandpa rallied us girls, his ever-faithful partners-in-crime,
and together we ventured out, filling our buckets with the scattered ornaments.
No, not all of them survived the storm, but the ones that did were stronger,
sturdier, much like us.
Christmas Eve saw some worries as Great Grandma’s health acted up. After a visit
by Grandma, her spirit was revived. Pity the nursing home didn’t allow dogs; my
“fur-sisters” Sasha and Annie, and I could have warmed many hearts.
While Grandma was away, we joined Grandpa in a cleaning spree, while Uncle Chet
joined us with more gifts for the tree. After that, it was a ride around our
lovely farm where we got to chase after Sharp-tailed Grouse and gaze at the
geese overhead.
The evening was filled with delectable homemade ham and bean soup. Us dogs had
some “dog bread”, also known as corn bread slathered with honey, a delicacy from
Grandpa’s childhood days. He reminisced about sharing meals with sheepherders –
it was fascinating, though Sasha and Annie seemed more engrossed in their “dog
bread”.
Dessert – the human way – was an assortment of cookies, all pleasantly sweet and
crunchy. With the humans busy unwrapping gifts, I took a leaf out of their book
and tore open my present. Lucky me, it was a box of Milk Bones!
Our Christmas morning dawned warm. Sasha and I scoured the yard, chasing after
everything that moved. Uncle Chet, our favorite playmate, was testing a new
rifle. I must admit, I was unsure about the hunting but, once Sasha brought back
a bird, I attempted to fetch one as well. Suddenly, I realized why Grandpa often
mutters about my potential as a hunting dog.
Christmas day capped off with a hotdog roast by a warm, cozy fire. Wrapped in
new coats and munching on smores – if not for the scarcity, I could now
understand Sasha’s obsession over them – Annie, Sasha, and I slept under the
stars. Christmas had indeed been a “speriance”, bursting with love, joy, and
adventures that no story could fully capture.
Warm wishes,
Katie.