It's the Most Wonderful Time

Over the Thanksgiving holiday I went home to North Carolina to be with my family. The day after Thanksgiving, as is often our tradition, we all piled into my dad’s pick up and headed for the mountains to track down the perfect Christmas tree. This year, for the second year in a row, Rosie, my dachshund and the love of my life, accompanied us.

It was actually my grandmother, my brother, my parents, Rosie and myself in the truck, so, as you might imagine, it was fairly cozy. My brother kept hitting Rosie because he didn’t like that she was licking the window. And I kept hitting him for hitting Rosie. At one point on the trip, my father was discussing my brother’s diet with him, suggesting that he should eat more fruit. I added my two cents, saying that in recent weeks I’d been eating a healthier diet and that Rosie had lost two pounds already. For some reason this seemed to push my brother over the edge (he’s not such a fan of Rosie) and he told me I needed to quit spending so much time with my dachshund and date someone. I think I hit him again.

Once we finally made it to the Christmas tree farm it was quite nice. Rosie sprinted through the pines as she and I went on a search for our tree and my parents and brother went looking for the family tree. I hadn’t been completely certain I’d even wanted a tree until we’d arrived at the farm. Last year, four days after I spent an entire evening decorating my house for Christmas, I went on an unexpected five-day trip to Martinique and never even had the chance to enjoy the décor. Not that I’d ever complain about a trip to the Caribbean, but the whole ordeal left me with a bad taste regarding festive decorating. Besides, it’s just Rosie and me now, so decorations seem a little frivolous. But, it occurred to me that, well, it’s just Rosie and me indefinitely. Why postpone my happiness?

So I carted my tree back to Atlanta and set it in a bucket of water on my porch last night, excited to decorate it tonight after work. It was a particularly tedious and long day at work, but all day, I was very excited about my plans for Target Christmas décor shopping, followed by evening of decorating with my dachshund. (I can only imagine what my brother’s response to that sentence would be.)

So, after I purchased my necessary Christmas décor including a tree skirt I’d kind of splurged on, I came home to begin my work. I’d even had the forethought to purchase Rosie a new toy to play with while I decorated. I turned up the Christmas music, made a cup of apple cider, lit a candle that smells like cinnamon and started pulling out ornaments.

And this is where the tricky part of decorating with a dachshund comes in. Halfway through my process Rosie had completely ripped her new toy to shreds, leaving bits of cotton and rope all over my condo. She’d become bored with it and quickly took a liking to other Christmas paraphernalia. While I put the tree in its stand, Rosie chewed through a strand of lights. While I hung ornaments, Rosie ran off with her stocking. (I found it later, thoroughly chewed under my bed.) As soon as I poured water into the tree stand, Rosie drank every last drop of it as if she hadn’t had water for months. Of course, this incredible feat of hydration resulted in Rosie promptly peeing on the brand new expensive tree skirt. Once I was finally finished (and, by the way, it looks awesome), I headed to the gym for a bit. When I returned, I found Rosie gnawing on the bottom branch of the tree. Amazing, really. She’s only ten pounds; you wouldn’t think she could cause quite this much damage.

The thing is though, I really wouldn’t have had it any other way. Rosie is my own little crazy family here in Atlanta. While my tree may have a slightly chewed lower branch and be lacking much in the way of water, Rosie’s ridiculous antics around it have already made me laugh. And I’m glad I didn’t postpone that.