Christmas at Home

Thanks to Molly, Amy, Leta, Ben, Jill, Joey, and a little dog named Matson, we had a great little Christmas at home this year.

After a delicious dinner of standing rib roast, cheesy potatoes, and asparagus (all prepared by the lovely and talented Mrs. Anastasia Hollenbach), we enjoyed some dessert and a dvd/book gift exchange.

All the photos HERE.

First Day of Winter

Today is the first day of Winter and what a fantastic day it has been.

First of all, it's still snowing. Yeah, no big deal to you Wyomingites, Coloradans, Michiganders, and the rest of you out there, but here in the Seattle area this is huge. It just doesn't do this here very often and when it does, it usually melts right away and we all go back to trudging through the darkness and the rain until Spring finally arrives.

This week, however, the temperatures have stayed below freezing and the snow has continued to fall. Everyone we know has been in a celebratory mood about it. Anastasia and I have certainly been loving it. Annabelle, she can't get enough of it. She tromps about, leaping and bounding through the white stuff, sticking her face in it, biting at it, and kicking her back legs out and "swimming" through it.

This afternoon, I walked Annabelle down the main street near out house, down to 167th Street, which is a very large, steep hill. It was closed of course due to the snow and many people were taking advantage of this closure, turning the street into a large sledding area. Inspired, I walked back home, grabbed the snowboard, and we all walked back for some fun on the hill.

Check out those and other photos from today's wintry good times HERE.

And now, the happiest dog on Earth:

Staying home on a snow day

It's snowing all over the Seattle area today, which means the teevee clowns are yapping about snow! and ice! and roads! and WINTER STORM SNOPACALYPSE 2008! Oh my! And the city pretty much shuts down because they're unable to clear the roads and anyway many of the roads are steep and turn to ice and the drivers can't drive because they don't know how so they throw up their hands and abandon their vehicles at the side of the road or even in the middle of the road.

Oh dear, oh dear. Well, I was going to go to work today anyway, but I talked to a couple people at work who informed me that it took them nearly two hours to get there and that the buses downtown are all backed up and stuck everywhere.

So I stayed home.

I walked Annabelle to the grocery store and got some eggs and milk and things for dinner later.

And now I'm just kicking back with Anastasia and our furry friends.

More Santa pics

Santa & his lovely assistant

Air!

Santa takes advantage of quiet time

Angry Santa

The Trials of a Pet Store Santa

When I looked down and saw the small pool of copper brown gel on the soft white cuff of my Santa uniform, the scent that had been offending me for nearly half an hour was suddenly made clear. Just to be sure, I brought the sleeve to within an inch of my nose for a little sniff. Yes, there it was. A decidedly potent Preparation H-like substance that must have come from the small, terrified dog I'd met earlier who would have nothing to do with me. As the dog had struggled and pushed away, kicking violently with its pointed little feet, it had slimed Santa with its anal gel.

After washing the cuff with soap and warm water, I could still smell the offensive odor. A further examination presented yet another smear of the brown slick mingling among the coarse white hairs of my beard, mere inches from my mouth. Luckily for me, a back-up beard waited in the employee lounge. Does this happen often? I wondered. Clean and newly bearded, I walked back to my post at the front of the store, thinking to myself that however sorry I felt for the little dog and its apparent discomfort, I thoroughly hated the human who'd set its exposed, hemorrhoid gel-covered anus in my arms.

During lulls in the photo-taking, I would occasionally walk outside for fresh air and wave at people at random. I would also wander the aisles of the store, often catching people off guard. I found it amusing to imagine someone suddenly seeing Santa in the corner of their eye, flipping through a book regarding the proper care of ferrets. It was during these expeditions that I made an interesting observation. Often, adult men would give me an accusing look as if to say, "Just who the hell do you think you are?" Women, however, would almost always smile and say, "Hi Santa," thereby proving my theory that all women want to sleep with Santa, which, comforted by this knowledge, is how I made it through two long days dressed as him.

Early on in my first day, I got very hot in my hat and beard, so I took them off. I was there for the pets, right? It wasn't long before the store manager came along and said, "You should never not be Santa when you're out here, especially when there are kids around." Not knowing what else to say, I replied grumpily, "They know I'm not the real Santa." Ultimately, however, she was right. After the first little girl lit up and exclaimed, "It's Santa!" my heart melted. From then on, the uniform became a weighty social burden and I did my very best not to let any small children see a Santa compromised by lack of beard or hat.

And then there were the other children.

As I sat on my bench, waiting for the next set of photo ops, a young boy stopped a few feet away and began pointing at me and calling me "a fake." That's how he said it too. "You're a fake! Mommy, he's a fake!" "No," she replied tenderly. "He's a helper. He helps Santa by working here and then he sends daily reports to the real Santa." I squinted and smiled agreeably at the boy, thinking this would be the end of it, but it wasn't long before he resumed his pointing and accusing.

Now, the beard I wore was held in place by a pair of elastic bands which stretched from my chin, over my poor ears, to the top of my head, the whole apparatus feeling much like a tight fitting jock strap meant to keep my chin firmly in place. I believe this is to keep Santa's mouth shut when faced with snot-nosed brats such as this one. Had the torturous beard not been there, who knows what I might have said to the innocent child. "Your mommy told me you were a mistake," came to mind. Or perhaps, simply, "Santa hates you."

But this was about animals, not kids, so I concealed my contempt for this little boy calling me a fake and instead concentrated on smiling for the camera and not dropping various cats and dogs as they squirmed in my arms. I met many wonderful dogs including a great big Newfoundland (or "newfie") who took up most of the photo, and an affectionate pug named Bruno who cleaned out my sinuses with his tongue. I even met a few charming cats. One cat, however, was very old and smelled as though it had already died, perhaps the prior day. It was sad, knowing that this would be its last Christmas, but the nice thing about a nearly-dead cat is that the expectations are quite low in terms of its on-camera performance.

At the end of the second day, tired and wondering what I had become, I was leaning against a wall outside the store, wanting a cigarette. I don't smoke, but something about the scene made me think I should have a cigarette hanging from my mouth.

My mood instantly changed, however, when I locked eyes with a young couple practically skipping toward the store with their dog, all three of them wearing the loudest red Christmas sweaters I'd ever seen. "I hope you're here for a photo," I said. They were so excited that I imagined they either must have been planning this for weeks, or they'd just had the idea a couple hours before and had managed not only to procure the hideous sweaters, but also to make it to the Petsmart on time, Santa waiting for them outside.

By the end of the weekend, a lot of people had left the store quite giddy to have a framed photo of their beloved pet sitting or squirming with Santa. Half of the proceeds went to Oasis for Animals, a local no-kill rescue organization. Once home, I took a very thorough shower.

Want to have your pet's picture taken with Santa? You still can (though, sorry to say, it won't be me in the suit). Simply find your nearest participating Petsmart and skip your merry way there December 13-14 and 20-21, from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. And be nice to Santa.

Closing Out the Weekend

Dog sleeps under coffee table. Cat nuzzles penguin. Man reads book by a mellow gold light.