As is tradition around these parts, it’s time for the annual unveiling of our holiday card. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Christmas
Tavish holiday tip #47
I know I’ve been notably light on the caroldies (and the blogging in general) this year, but I couldn’t let the holidays pass without sharing our traditional holiday tip. So, without further ado…
Tavish Holiday Tip #47
This year, do your own thing. Make reindeer part of it. Any questions?
The best part of this year’s card distribution was the conversation with someone who was unfamiliar with the inspiration for this year’s card. He thanked me for the card, mentioned that it was cute, and asked me what was up with the reindeer.
Best day ever.
Also, I’ve got some plans to get back on the blogging wagon in the new year. Although the comic (which I would very much like you to check out) keeps me busy, I’m going to start posting at least a few times a month here. I miss this space… and you, friends.
Happy holidays!
Yule thank him later: Tavish Holiday Tip #23
As some of our longtime readers might know, our canine collaborators are in the habit of sharing a holiday tip in our holiday card every year. Accordingly, it’s time to reveal this year’s card… Continue reading
‘Tis the season (for another canine Christmas carol)
Did you really think I would let a holiday season pass by without sending some new caroldies your way? Perish the thought.
A Game Upon the Midnight Clear
It came upon a midnight clear,
That canine urge to go.
Whining and wiggling for all they’re worth,
To lead you into the cold.
Canine mirth, you’re out and then,
That puppy won’t do a thing.
You head back in to get some sleep,
Before that alarm does ring.
You’re back to sleep and then they come,
Cold noses end dream world.
And then on sleepy feet you float,
From bed you are uncurled.
Out again, they make no gains,
Back in the house you bring,
Your stubborn and insistent hounds,
Who still won’t do a thing.
To sleep again, you’re on the road,
When they say no, no, no.
You leash again, get on the way,
Your painful steps are slow.
You know it is beyond your powers,
To untangle from this string.
You trudge along a helpless toad,
As daylight begins to sing.
Want more caroldies? You’re obviously a glutton for punishment (or, more accurately, PUN-ishment). However, you’re obviously in charge of your own destiny, so… click at your own risk.
Walking in a Neutered Wonderland
Disclaimer: Tavish does not endorse, nor does he appreciate, the “humor” of this post.
I was recently reminded of a particular caroldy that I began in the comments over at Something Wagging a few years ago. It seems high time that we revisit that little gem and add a few more verses.
Walking in a Neutered Wonderland
Puppy balls, are you listening?
At the vet’s, the tools are glistening.
It’ll all be all right, but by later tonight,
You’ll be walking in a neutered wonderland.
Gone away, is your manhood.
Instead you see, you’ll be fixed good.
You might think it’s wrong, but just go along
Walking in a neutered wonderland.
To the dog park you can totally go, man,
And the fertile females will not frown.
Lots of fun you’ll have,
I know you still can.
Don’t let this operation get you down.
Treats aplenty, you’ll require.
As you recover, by the fire.
To face unafraid,
The different junk the vet made.
Walking in a neutered wonderland.
I totally get you’re down about this stuff, and
And now you think our evil has renown.
We didn’t ask your thoughts,
But give it time, man.
You’re still the king, just no jewels set in your crown.
Just wait and see, you’ll be thrilling.
Without your balls, you’ll be chilling.
You’ll frolic and play,
The same old sweet way,
Walking in a neutered wonderland.
So… that happened. Sorry, everyone. Feel free to caption this photo of Tavish as my holiday gift to you.
He sees you when you’re eating…
I hope you’ve been good* this year. Tavish Claus has been watching.
Tavish Claus is Coming to Town
You shouldn’t go out. You better not lie.
You better stay home. I’m telling you why.
Tavish Claus is coming to town.
He’s going to kiss. He’ll be licking you twice.
He’s gonna ask if his dinner you’ll dice.
Tavish Claus is coming to town.
He sees you when you’re eating.
He knows when you’ve got cake.
If you’re smart, you’ll share your food,
Or a giant mess he’ll make.
You shouldn’t hold out. His patience you’ll try.
He will refuse to go out, until he’s eaten your fries.
Tavish Claus is coming to town.
*In this context, being “good” means giving your dog lots of food. All the food. So much food. (Tavish Claus thinks with his stomach, obviously… I’m the one who has to think about his waistline. I totally get how Mrs. Claus must feel.)
Sometimes, it’s better to be stirring
The news lately has been pretty upsetting, infuriating, and depressing. (I’ll leave it to you to decide which bucket you put each story in. However, it seems to me that they all fit neatly – and horribly – into all three.) It’s tempting to bury yourself in cute animal videos, holiday shopping, and other distractions. I know I’ve been tempted.
However, while I was putting up my Christmas tree the other night, I happened to pop in the DVD of one of my favorite specials – ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. Surprisingly, the animated tale of some mice breaking tradition and stirring on Christmas Eve inspired some deep thoughts. In particular, this song proved quite relevant to my state of mind:
Frankly put, sometimes the world kind of sucks. (I’ll leave the eloquence to this brilliant lady.) It can seem kind of hopeless and that it will never change.
I can’t believe that. I can’t let myself believe that. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people let the world happen to them and claim they have no agency in the situation. Obviously, sometimes terrible things happen that are out of our control. However, we can’t just sit around waiting for a miracle to fix our problems, whether personal or societal. After all, even a miracle needs a hand, right?
I mean, does your dog just sit in the kitchen hoping that food will magically fall to the floor? Okay, bad example. He probably does. BUT… he probably also considers counter surfing when he sees an opportunity to make his own gastronomical miracle happen. I prefer to keep an eye out for chances to give those needed miracles a boost, rather than waiting for them to just happen. I aspire to be a counter surfer for change… or something like that.
I’ll return to our regular scheduled goofiness with my next post… just felt the need to get this one out there. Can you think of any other lessons from holiday specials that we can take to heart during these times of trouble? Share in the comments!
Dream a little dream of links
Getting back into the swing of things means reviving the weekly link roundup, so… here we go!
- First up, your punny pet names: Katey Seagull and Mick Wagger. (Also, please enjoy this bonus punny action. You’re welcome.)
- This is an old one, but I just can’t with the news this week… so let’s revisit some good news!
- Yes… more good news! We need some fuzzy, happy things right now.
- For all the times that the world disappoints me, there’s always some good eggs to remind me that there’s still some awesome out there. Thanks, pals.
- Let’s make this happen, guys. (Basically… I’m #TeamBob.)
- It’s been kind of rainy this week. I need to do this to help me make it through.
- It seems weird to finish this post without any holiday-related links. So, here’s a holiday DIY for the dog lovers out there.
- Oh, I can’t stop with just one. I also can’t resist sharing this amazing holiday card.
It’s not really holiday-related, but I love everything about this video (including the Hall & Oates soundtrack):
(I’m always on the lookout for these types of videos thanks to this awesome lady.)
In conclusion… meow.
Doggie style Christmas carols return!
This month, wordless Wednesdays will be extremely wordy… are you ready for the return of caroldies? They’re something of an annual tradition around these parts…
Bark! the Begging Canines Sing
“Bark!” The begging canines sing
“Glory to yummy dinner things.
We’ll take some of that turkey wild,
And crumbs from yonder messy child.”
Joyful the Dalmatians rise,
When more tidbits fall from the skies.
“It doesn’t matter who’s to blame,
We’ll eat that food ‘fore it can stain.”
Morsels, by every dog adored.
Your every move won’t be ignored.
At dinner time they quickly come,
Hoping that you will give them some.
Patiently they wait to see,
If you’ll indulge their begging plea.
Stealing food will also sell,
If your back is turned as well.
Bark the begging canines sing,
“Glory to the dinner bell’s ring!”
Now, it’s your turn. Share your caroldies in the comments or send me your requests for this year’s caroldy selections!
(While you’re at it, you might as well caption that Tavish as well, right?)
I’m getting mutton for Christmas
These past few weeks, I’ve found myself revisiting some of my favorite Bella memories. Remembering all of her wonderful quirks makes me smile, even if that smile is often (okay, always) through some tears. In any event, I thought I’d share a few of these as I try to get back into the blog.
Today’s tale has it all – mystery, comedy… and even MURDER.
It was a cold night. Presents were stacked under the unlit Christmas tree. In the corner of my mother-in-law’s living room, a ceramic assembly gathered around an empty crib, quietly awaiting the arrival of the porcelain Savior. Faux-human and faux-animal alike, they patiently kept watch, anticipating the moment that the giant hand would place the baby in the miniature manger. Distracted by the imminent miracle, they failed to notice that one of their own was missing.
He wasn’t the fanciest sheep, nor the prettiest one. In fact, they never knew how he became a part of the flock. He was always there, but he was undeniably different. The leader of the flock accepted him without question, and the others followed like… well, like sheep. (Just calling ’em like I see ’em.)
That fateful night, the plastic sheep found himself separated from the ceramic flock. As he faced down the giant she-beast, he knew that he would not see the Nativity storage container ever again. Although she did not usually devour miniature figurines, his plastic scent was too much to resist that night.
Later, in the harsh light of Christmas morning, the crime scene revealed itself. Crumbs of plastic sheep littered the manger. It didn’t take a world-class detective to discover the culprit – after all, the small brown and white dog happily pooping out pieces of plastic sheep didn’t seem too ashamed of her heinous act.