Oh, Christmas tree…such fleeting pleasure you brought to practically every household in the neighborhood.
Suburban folks and city dwellers alike can appreciate the beauty of the holiday season and the abrupt tear down that follows. From a magical beacon of soft-glowing electricity, with carefully placed ornamentation, to a fire hazard hastily tossed on the curb, the real Christmas tree is an illogical tradition that I support.
Wasteful. Sure. Expensive. Absolutely. Messy. Yep. But they look nice and they smell good. And as I discovered this year, they bring a different kind of joy to male dogs once they’re discarded. While the most wonderful time of year may have passed for us humans, Woody and his fellow leg-lifters here on the hill love to pee all over the dried-out evergreens of Christmas past.
To some, the carefully trimmed and aggressively marketed shrubs may look like trash, but all I see is a happy dog with endless whizzing opportunities. We should all be so easily entertained.
The tree. The dog. The anticipation.