Holidays

A good online friend shared this new Christmas song. Thanks Mary.

Happy Holidays to all. May all your online friends be as special as mine are.

HAPPILY ADDICTED TO THE WEB

(tune–Winter Wonderland)

Doorbell rings, I’m not list’nin’,

Through open doors, snow is glistnin’

I’m happy–although

My boss let me go–

Happily addicted to the Web

All night long, I sit clicking,

Unaware, time is ticking,

There’s stubble on my cheek,

Same clothes for a week,

Happily addicted to the Web.

Friends come by

They shake me,

Saying, “Yo man!

Don’t you know,

Downstairs, it’s your mom”?

With a listless shrug,

I mutter, “No man;

I just discovered msn dot com!”

I don’t phone, don’t send faxes,

Don’t go out, don’t pay taxes,

Who cares if someday

They drag me away?

I’m happily addicted to the Web

A wonderful friend sent me the following email about one of her Christmas pasts. I thought it was a great spirit of Christmas story and asked her permission to put it in my blog. Happily she agreed. I hope you get the same special feeling that I did when I read this remembrance of her and her special dog B.G. Christmas is more than presents. It is Love.

A Christmas Eve Pet Story

I read in the paper today that 72% of American pet owners will have at least one gift for their pet under the Christmas tree. Gifts ran the gamut from treats and winter coats to special beds and “Juicy Crittoure” shampooch and coif-fur. I’m the last person who’d criticise someone for buying their pet a Christmas present. I did when B.G. was alive. And I’ll always remember one Christmas Eve, when she gave me the greatest gift I ever got in my life.I had been poor for several years, and that year was an especially bad one. I was barely meeting the rent and essential bills, and had very little to spend on Christmas gifts. I (badly) handmade everything I gave that year, and was very depressed because nothing had turned out very well, and, to be frank, most of the recipients were not going to be impressed by my efforts. I didn’t have any clue what kind of gift to make for a dog, and I was already working every hour I possibly could to earn enough money to survive Christmas break (I worked at the university, and it closed for several weeks), so I decided not to include B.G. on my Christmas gift list. She was, after all, a dog and didn’t understand what Christmas was about anyway, so she wouldn’t expect anything or want anything. But I felt bad about that decision, and I felt worse as Christmas approached. A dog never criticises or complains. A dog is always there for you, no matter what kind of day you’ve had. And B.G. was a working dog, on duty 24/7 to help me with my deafness and guard me from threats. I finally decided I could not fail to have a gift for her, if only because I felt she deserved one. On Christmas Eve, I ransacked my pockets, the bottom of my purse, looked under the couch cushions, and looked everywhere I could think of to rummage up cash. I managed to scrum up less than $3. But my roommate and I packed B.G. in the car, and went out to shop for something suitable for a dog. It was after 7 p.m. I’d thought the stores would be open until 9. Imagine my shock when we found sign after sign on darkened stores reading, “We close at 6 on Christmas Eve.” The only place we could find that was still open and might have supplies for pets was a grocery store. We all got out of the car, and I went inside. My roommate remained outside with B.G.; they would walk up and down the sidewalk, for exercise and to entertain the dog. The grocery store had about half an aisle devoted to pet needs, mostly food, and some mundane equipment. I searched with a sinking heart for something special, and saw nothing that was both special and affordable. I finally selected a double-sided fur brush. It was cheap, just about $2.50, and, I tried to console myself, something she did need, her old brush having become very soft and bent and inefficient. But I was trying not to cry, because it was so mundane and ugly, and I didn’t even have any wrapping paper at home; I was going to have to give it to her in the plain brown grocery store bag. Some gift for your bestest best friend. I felt horrible as I paid and headed for the exit. Waiting right outside the door were B.G. and my roommate. “What are you doing here?” I exclaimed. “Your timing’s great, but I thought you’d be walking up and down.” No, he explained, B.G. had planted herself at the door as soon as I went inside and refused to budge. I looked down into the face of a canine angel. She was as close to glowing as a black-and-copper dog can be. The light in her eyes, the excited wag of her tail and full body wiggle, the excited panting and wuffles, all of her saying, “You’re back! You’re back! I love you so much!” And I realised she truly didn’t care about the bag in my hand or that tomorrow was Christmas. All she really wanted was to be by my side for always. I was enveloped in her unconditional love, and that evening I finally understood what it means to have the special love of a pet, and that material things have no value to compare. I think it was the first time in that Christmas season that I felt happy. The next morning, I sat by the Christmas tree and gave B.G. the brown bag. She had a grand time opening the top and pulling out the brush, which she brought right to me, her eyes flashing with pride at being such a good dog. I took off the cardboard wrap, showed it to her, and then started brushing her. She was in ecstasy. That cheap, mundane brush I’d cried over because it wasn’t special enough immediately became her favourite possession. For the rest of her life, I only had to hold up that brush, and she would light up like a candle. It’s been eight years now since B.G. died, but every Christmas Eve, I take out her brush and relive that incredible feeling of warmth and joy on the night I realised how much my dog loved me for myself.So what’s the point of this recollection? Maybe I’m just trying to say that if you want to give your pet a gift, go ahead. And if you don’t want to or can’t afford to, don’t take a guilt trip. They’ll love the same whether you do or don’t. That’s the miracle of a pet’s love. I hope all of who have pets experience it daily.

A very Happy Christmas to all, human and fur, with love from Raven, and, in ever-loved and loving spirit, B.G.

Merry Christmas

Happily Addicted to the Web

Happy New Year

A Christmas Eve Love Story

Season’s Greetings