Defending Myself

I am a very gentle, good-natured, dog.  I doubt anyone could deny that (and if someone does, don't pay any attention--he or she is obviously a liar).  However, I, like everyone else, do have a breaking point and, when provoked, I will defend myself.  I reached that point yesterday afternoon.

The afternoon started off normal enough.  Sister had just left to return to work after her lunch break and I, having found a nice warm sunny spot upstairs, had just settled down for a nap.  It was then I heard it: a dull thud.  With a sigh, I got up, stretched, and scurried down the stairs to investigate. 

I checked the kitchen--nothing but a loaf of bread on the counter.  I looked in Ma and Pa's room--nothing.  I checked the kitchen again--that loaf of bread looked tasty.  I checked the dining room--no sign of a disturbance.  I went back to the kitchen and tried to judge just how close to the edge of the counter the bread was.  "Wait," I thought, "Santa's watching."  I then sauntered into the living room and, lo and behold, I saw it!

There, by the front door, lay the homemade Christmas wreath Ma and Sister had made a couple of weeks ago; the one wrapped entirely in red yarn and covered in felt flowers (neither of which I was allowed to play with while they were making it).  Beside the wreath lay the suction cup that had previously held it to the door.



The remains of the wreath

I scurried over to the wreath, grabbed it in my mouth, and dragged it to the middle of the living room.  Then I systematically pulled out each straight pin that held each flower and leaf on and left them in a slobbery heap on the floor (I was very careful with the pins--I managed not to pierce my lips).  Next I grabbed the wreath itself and bit down.  Let me tell you, few things are better than Styrofoam...nothing crunches or breaks apart quite like it.  Over the next few minutes I reduced the wreath to a slobbery pile of Styrofoam snow, knotted red yarn, and mangled felt flowers.  Then, I took the suction cup back upstairs to my nice warm sunny spot and gnawed on it until I fell asleep.

I'm sure all of my readers, including Santa, will not fault me for what I did.  After all, the wreath did attack me.