My wife needed a skirt for our small Christmas tree. We have down-sized the last couple years and the Christmas tree could fit on a small table. Our dog, Jojo, had a "Ho, ho, ho" blanket perfect for the task. He wasn't any happier with her using his blanket this year than he was last year. Worried; very worried.
Annabelle wonders if she has been naughty or nice. She puts on a sweet face, but don't ask my wife whether she was naughty or nice. If she treated the lasts owner's wife they way she treats Judy, I can see why she was found wandering the streets. She is a one man gurhl.
Maybe if I sit by a festive Christmas basket they will forget how bad I can be...
Here is Mr. Sweetness himself — as long as you don't mess with his feet. (He has so much tongue, he has to fold it over to keep it all in his mouth.)
Let me go hide this thing so they don't try to regift me.
Touch this blanket and you will pay dearly! This is his camo blanket. We don't get him toys; we get him blankets.
Jojo was so distressed about his blanket that my wife went and bought another skirt for under the tree.
The waiting can seem interminable. She thinks every day is Christmas. Whenever you come in with a bag, she wants to know, "What did you get me?"
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