A Dog After My Own Heart

As a kid, Christmas was the holiday that drove me the most crazy. I waited and waited, and it just never seemed to arrive. Santa may have brought presents, but he sure milked it first. The worst part was that there were some presents sitting under the tree waiting to surprise me with something wonderful. Mom liked to get her shopping done early, so it was a long wait and I don't like surprises.

There were several occasions when Christmas just didn't come soon enough. I had waited as long as I possibly could, and then took it upon myself to take matters into my own hands. I took one present and held, shook, and rattled it, then held it up to the light. Nothing gave away it's contents, so I tried to unwrap it as neatly as possible. When my dirty deed was done I would try to wrap it back up so it would look exactly like it had before I touched it. It never worked. A crumpled present with torn paper and a half roll of tape holding it together was tucked back under the tree where hopefully nobody would notice before Christmas morning. It not that I'm naughty - I just don't like surprises. Well...I should say it's not JUST that I'm naughty.

Age brings all things wonderful, and this story is no exception. There is absolutely nothing I want, and I therefore I don't wonder or even care what is under the tree. But Harper - he's a naughty little doggie. I looked under the tree today and saw a present that was half opened. This time it wasn't me - but it did resemble the shoddy re-wrapping jobs of my youth.

Little Harper couldn't wait until Christmas. No wonder he found his way into our family.