My Hanging Big Boot

My Hanging Big Boot

Mom brought the big tree up from the basement last night.  I was so excited!  I know when the big tree is inside our house; my big boot will be hung on the fireplace.  The big tree image of dog and christmas treedoes not smell like a tree.  At first I thought I was losing my sense of smell.  That would be just great.  A hunting dog unable of picking up the scent of its prey.  I would be the laughing stock among my facebook peers.  My sister-cat assured me that my nose is fine; it is the tree that has lost its scent.  Maybe this happens when you keep it inside all year.  I am almost sure that trees need to be outside in the dirt to smell like a tree. image of cat It was nice of my sister-cat to clear that up for me.  Usually she does not really speak to me, she just chants over and over “Cat’s Rule, Dog’s Drool!”  I don’t know what it means but she seems to get so much pleasure singing it over and over.  It must be her favorite song or something.  She gets this weird smug look on her face and walks by real close to make sure I can hear the song too.   I ran circles around mom as she took great care in making sure the twinkling bright stars on the tree all twinkled.  She looked at me and smiled knowing exactly what I was waiting for.  She opened up a big box and there they were, our boots.  There is one for my big brother, one for my big sister, one for mom and one for me!  They all look the same but they each have a special pin that everyone picked out for their boot.  My boot has a Dalmatian puppy pin wear a Santa hat.  I dug my head into the box sniffing out my boot.  Mom asked how I knew which on was mine.  I knew then that there is nothing wrong with my sniffer.  Sister-cat was right.

Mom hung the boots up on the fireplace.  I went up to mine and poked it with my nose.  There is nothing in it yet.  I do this several times a day until I feel or hear a package in it.  Mom says that since Santa is sooo very busy on Christmas Eve, he starts to deliver gifts early to specially selected homes.  None of my friends have heard of this.  They obviously don’t get gifts delivered early.  Maybe they’re a little naughty.  Or maybe, I am just extra, extra special.  I know what it means when I feel a lump in my boot.  I get so uncontrollably excited.  I prance around letting mom know that there is a gift waiting for me to open.  I love to open my own gifts. image of Simba the dog I’m really good at it.  I try to help everyone else open their gifts on Christmas but no one wants my trained help.  You would think that I was trying to take it away.  As they see me approach, they hunch over their gift, covering it up and shouting “NO! Go Away!  Get!”  Really?  Let’s be civilized.  Anyhow, back to my hanging boot stuffed with gifts just for me.  Sometimes mom does not picture of Simba, the dog, opening presentsunderstand that there is a gift in the boot that I need to open.  So I sit in front of the fireplace looking up at my boot whining as loud as I can.  When she looks my way, I jump up and down touching my boot and showing her that it’s full.  It’s very hard for me to wait so many days to open my surprise.  Last year, mom finally took my boot and hid it on top of the hutch.  But the old sniffaroo lead the way right to it.  So she took and hid it again and I didn’t see it until Christmas.  I will have to be careful not to whine too much this year.  Sometimes I just can’t help it.

 

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