I don’t.
I just don’t want to be close to the big red scary pet.
“Okay. Potty and then paw warmers. I don’t want you pottyingonyour paw warmers.”
Good.
Good.
We’re getting away from the big red pet.
I make myself trudge along while my girl pet leads me to a tree I haven’t tinkled near yet—she won’t let me tinkle on the decorated trees—and I concentrate extra hard to make the tinkle come.
I really have used it all up.
But having to work hard means it takes extra long.
The big red pet guy should be gone before we get back to our boy pet.
But as we meander back, with my girl pet pausing to put my paw warmers on—oooh, so nice—and then getting herself more cider and our boy pet more hot chocolate, I realize something’s off.
The smell of the big red pet is getting stronger the closer we get to where we left our boy pet.
I don’t like this.
I whine again and slow down.
“What’s wrong, Chili-boy?” my girl pet says. I’m so glad she lives with me and my boy pet now. She’s nice. And fun. And she always gets down close to me when she talks to me, especially when I whine. “Are you still cold?”
I whine again.
Let her think I’m cold so she’ll take me home.
“Aww, poor thing. Let’s see if your daddy can cuddle you. That’ll help. And then we’ll go home. Not much longer, I promise. I just want to see them light all of the trees and see Aunt Lorelei wish everyone Merry Christmas in the dress that her grandma used to wear. It’s her first time. I’m so excited for her.”
This isn’t the answer I wanted.
But she said homesoon.
And I like my aunt Lorelei pet.
She makes me homemade dog treats and sends them in the mail with fruitcake for my girl pet and cookies for my boy pet.
I slow down even more as the smell of the big red pet gets stronger.
And stronger.
And stronger.
But I can’t slow down enough, and then we’re there.
Back with our boy pet, who’s talking to the big red pet like he’s not a scary old crazy dog-napper.
I whimper and sink to the ground, getting snow all over my ugly Christmas sweater, and I cover my nose.
“I think Chili needs to go home,” my girl pet says to my boy pet.
“Huh. You okay, pup?” my boy pet says as he bends over me too.
