Tuesday, January 22, 2008

A late-night rosy glow

Last night, Mom and Dad decided that it was time to remove the Christmas tree. The Christmas tree stood in the library, a room into which I am generally not allowed. This was fine. I mean, I didn't like the fact that I had to hang out in the kitchen by myself, but if they had to take the thing down they had to take it down. Mom said that it was becoming a fire hazard, and she said it with that look in her eye that makes "hazard" sound like a good thing, so it had to go.

But they stayed in the library after they removed the tree! Eventually I barked to be allowed into my crate for bed - I do have my routine, after all. Usually at least one of them comes and goes to sleep not long afterward. Last night, though, they didn't. I drifted off to sleep, but every time I woke up to see where they were, they weren't there.

Eventually, and by "eventually" I mean "after 1:00 AM," Mom came into the kitchen to satisfy a late-night broccoli craving. I asked to come out. She let me out to fertilize the yard. When she came back, though, she looked at me. "Do you want to come see the fire?" she asked me. I wagged my tail just as hard as I could, and she smiled and scratched me under my collar. When her broccoli was finished cooking, she put my leash on me and we walked out of the kitchen.

I wasn't sure where we were going at first. I tried to go downstairs into the basement, since she sometimes uses my leash to bring me down there when they go away for the whole day, but she didn't follow. "Come on, Yogi," she told me as I was halfway down the stairs. "We're not going downstairs." This was disappointing - I thought there might be more football - but she said, "It's okay, Yogi." And we went into the library!

I'm not usually allowed in the library for two reasons. It's hard to secure (ie, keep me in the library) and it's full of paper products that would very likely prove too tempting to me. However, as long as I stayed on my leash it was okay. Mom and Dad had built a very warm fire in the fireplace and were enjoying its warmth. Dad was sitting on one of the chairs playing on his computer. Mom was sitting on the floor because it was closer to the fire.

I explored as much as I could, taking care to unplug Dad's laptop twice and knock over a stack of books in the process. That was when I made a beautiful discovery: A fire is made with sticks. There are large sticks called "logs," which I can't quite get my jaws around, and there are smaller sticks called "kindling." All of these sticks are piled in the library. Can you imagine the treasure? It was amazing! I was able to get a couple of pieces of bark off the logs and I cheerfully ate them - you need fiber in your diet, after all. I stole a couple of the smaller sticks, just to keep Mom from getting too comfortable there by the fire. I even got to help! Dad was piling more wood onto the fire when he turned to me with a larger piece of kindling. He said, "Here, hold this." I was so proud! I sat there with that big old stick in my mouth, smiling and wagging my tail, for at least three minutes. For me to sit still five minutes is quite the accomplishment!

After, I came and half-sat in Mom's lap. The fire was so warm! Mom was so happy to have me and the fire right there, you would have thought she had died and gone to heaven. Eventually, though, I had to go back to my crate. The adventure was novel, but there are some times when a dog should really just be in bed, so I whined a little and led them back to the crate. I liked the fire, but I like my bed in my crate better. Especially that late at night!

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