THE REAL STORY

Elves, don’t you understand what you have done? You both became so angry with one another that you forgot to make your toys out of love. You put so much bad feeling into making these toys that they came to life with anger inside them.
—Santa Claus, "The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat."


Always the skeptic, my version of Jessica and Owen’s discovery of a kitten and puppy on Christmas Eve takes a serious turn for the worse. These two wayward critters—didn’t they fall from Santa’s sleigh and wander the night through the forest?—aren’t cute and cuddly; they’re mangy, they’re damaged goods. They’re not so much put together by warring elves, no sirree—one’s from a puppy mill and the other came from love-passionate screaming alley cats. That’s how the procreation equation factors in.

Reality may be harsh, not at all like the story’s fairy tale ending where the Calico Cat and the Gingham Dog find harmony and love in their new home, where the brother and sister lovingly share and look after each other’s pet. Ask an animal shelter employee about the busiest time of the year and they will tell you, "We get more animals right after the holidays. As soon as the novelty of owning a pet wears off."

Speaking of pets, my wife and I are still feeling the sting from the loss of Bear, our black lab. We’ve found remnants of him under throw rugs and furniture. No more discussion about another dog yet. My wife’s been unusually kind to me lately, perhaps she’ll bring it up soon. Yesterday, she packed my lunch—homemade chili with beans, onions, and a cheese and sour cream topping. She hates beans, I should’ve known something was seriously wrong with her sudden act of kindness. It wasn’t until I arrived home from work and my stomach was doing backflips, that I realized where she had gotten the idea: leftovers from when our dog was sick and eating cheap hamburger and rice. I guess she thought I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between good hamburger and cheap hamburger.