The other day, upon returning home from a rousing morning dodging cat claws and dog teeth, I pulled in to my driveway to find a very large mysterious box. Undoubtedly, the UPS man had done one of his famous drop-and run-routines with the box, I thought. Mind you, our little rat terrorist Mini has nibbled a bit too hard on his pant legs in the past when I was not around to run interference. I got the usual two cold nose dog greeting as I opened the door, with obligatory stroking on my part before I could get out and investigate this oversized parcel.
Because we live in the country and my wife and kids consider it hip to order over the Internet, I usually am the parcel retriever if one is dropped. This package was addressed to my wife so I cautiously lifted it up and squeezed in the front door with a clearance of only a fraction of an inch. I dared not to open it as I have been trained not to do so. Who knows, it might be my Christmas present. (Not a surprise if I see it) At any rate, I left the package at the front door in plain sight and went inside to fetch my long-anticipated lunch. I called my wife to let her know a very large package had arrived. No response was forthcoming except "thank you." Maybe it was for me.
After returning home that evening, my curiosity had peaked as to the mystery parcel. I entered the same front door to find the box open and the contents gone. I soon found out what it was when I crossed the room to see a rather spacious dog lounge chair near the fireplace. I was a bit saddened to discover the box was not my Christmas present. When I enquired of my lovely wife why she purchased such a extravagant piece of canine furniture, I got an appropriate answer. I knew Mini and Suz would not benefit from the chair, except on cold nights because of their distinct smell of cows, so that left Macie, our son's overindulged boxer. She is the apple of my wife's eye and happened to be the recipient of such luxury. My wife claimed Macie was constantly wanting up on the new leather furniture as she was previously allowed up at our son's apartment with his three college age roommates. We have waited many years to purchase the furniture so it was off limits to dogs , food and dirty people!
I have yet to test the doggy lounge chair out as Macie is simply in love with her new portal. My wife has also trained her to go to it at our command. One morning, I came downstairs at my usual 5 a.m. time to find Macie passed out under her blanket, spread out on her new chair in the virtual lap of luxury. She raised one eyebrow to acknowledge my presence along with the "don't bother me I'm sleeping" look. I tiptoed around as I made my my coffee and snickered to myself, "Man, we are really going to the dogs!" I could hear a rhythmic snoring sound as I gazed at the hound in such man made comfort.
Maybe Santa could be persuaded to bring me such comfort this Christmas.