Give a Dog a Bone

give-a-dog-a-bone


Hunter has never enjoyed the act of giving.
But he is an expert on the act of receiving.
And it is no act.
He really does enjoy it.
As soon as our Christmas tree goes up, he is a changed dog.
He stops barking from four until eight every evening and he brings us the Sunday paper.
I am exaggerating.
We haven't gotten a Sunday paper since they removed the TV guide.

Good thing. With all the channels there are these days it would be impossible for Hunter to drag it up to our bedroom anyway.
And when I said that Hunter stops barking from four until eight.
Well, that was just a dream.
He actually doubles down on his barking.
The dude should have been a politician.
I was going to wrap a piece of coal for the beast.
But then he had his yearly physical.
It was smooth sailing once we all got over the trauma, beginning with the three mandatory little pills that he takes for anxiety. The car ride there. The bull dog incident. The scale. The shots. The blood draw. The manicure. The pedicure. The bill. The car ride home. Being carried into the house. The woozy afternoon. The not being able to get out to poop or to navigate up the stairs for bed, resulting in a slumber party in the living room with his dad.
And then yay, the sun came up and life went on.
But, just as we were going about our daily business again, there came a message on the answering machine.
It was from Hunter's doctor.
She explained that his bloodwork resulted in high calcium levels. And she said that we need to book another spa day for another blood draw. And a rectal exam. This is all after Hunter fasts for twelve hours in advance.
Shit.
I don't think Hunter is going to care for any of this.
Especially after I just got through telling him that he was all done with going to the doctor for a whole year unless he gets into another fight with another wooly mammoth.
So, as you can imagine I am not looking forward to breaking the news.
He does have a hard time keeping track of the time.
I am always saying things like, "Hunter, don't you remember? We just went for a walk." Or, "Hunter, I just gave you a treat."
Maybe I could just say, "Wow. That year really flew, didn't it? It's hard to believe it is already time to go back."
But, I don't think he will fall for it since the Christmas tree will still be standing there in our living room on the day of his next appointment.
"What's that Louisa?"
"Oh."
My sister has a point.
You see, our tree has already fallen down twice this year.
Because I am married to a Norwegian who bought a nine dollar tree stand for a four foot tree instead of a fifteen dollar tree stand for an eight foot tree.
And then he dared to touch a branch while turning down the thermostat located behind it.
It landed on the couch.
Luckily, I wasn't sitting there when it did.
There were only two ornament casualties.
And a couple broken limbs.
I love to decorate the Christmas tree.
So, I wasn't that upset about rehanging all those ornaments that had gone flying. Although it is more fun the first time around.
We were not home the second time the tree bit the dust.
It landed on Hunter's bed.
As far as we know Hunter wasn't napping at the time.
At least he wasn't underneath it when we walked in the door and there were no limbs sticking out of him.
We lost two more ornaments on the second fall and that was including the one that I threw while calling Sven, a Christmas tree killer.
Decorating your tree for a third time is not as fun as round one or round two.
It is the opposite of fun.
I am happy to say that the tree is now secured with wire.
And that I have high hopes that it will stay put until the holidays are over.
But unfortunately this is going to make it more difficult to fool Hunter into believing that another year has already gone by.
Sven and I are choosing to believe that his high calcium levels are caused by his addiction to rawhide chews. And that we will be able to enroll him into some kind of a rehabilitation program and wean him off all the bones.
Maybe that way he will be satisfied with just his CBD oils and his opioids.
We always have been big dreamers.
Anyway, since it is the season of giving, I have decided to wrap up a whole bunch of presents this Christmas for our Hunter Bunter.
The guy who would rather to receive.
Than to give.

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