It’s cold and frosty in the morning and Mom says if we’re lucky, it might snow one of these days.
Do I know what the cold weather means?
Yes, I do.
Even though I have a warm furry coat, Mom is going to dress me in sweaters and jackets, like this plastic dog.
Cold weather also means Christmas is coming. It’s the time of year when Mom gets all the boxes from storage (and there are more every year). Out of the boxes come things that make Mom happy. She puts on Christmas music while she sticks these things everywhere.
Dad, on the other hand, puts up lights outside all over the house and assembles the trees. They don’t smell like trees; they smell like dusty plastic.
Except for this one in The Landing, our new community center.
I like Christmas because Mom gets me tasty treats and some new squeaky toys. But this year, I have a little brother to contend with. Whenever I pick up a toy to play with, he’s right there, taking it from me.
Oh well. No matter what, Mom says I don’t have to worry because I’m a good boy and good boys always get a lot of treats and toys.
I’ll just have to play a game of “keep away.”
Does that still mean I’m a good boy?