A Changed Dog

Santa Claus has changed my life. I mean it. Before Santa, being a good girl really wasn't on my "to do" list. But ever since Daddy told me about Santa Claus I've been trying really hard to be a good girl all the time.

From playing nice with Tico to coming when I'm called, I am bringing my good girl full on. No pooping in the house, no chewing on the furniture, and no ripping the head off the snowman on the Christmas tree skirt or any of Tico's toys. I'm telling you, I'm a changed dog.

I have to admit, being bad is a lot more fun than being good. I know you know what I'm talking about. Knocking the trashcan over and sniffing through the garbage is a blast! Any dog would agree.

Being a bad girl makes Daddy mad, especially if he has to chase me. You should see Daddy when he's mad. Tico totally freaks out and freezes in place. Daddy's face turns red as he's running and huffing and puffing and yelling and cussing. I'm telling you it's hysterical. Ask any of our neighbors.

Then I found out you get nice gifts for being good and a lump of coal for being bad. Well spank me with a rolled up newspaper! Why didn't someone explain this to me earlier? Am I too late?  What do I do with a lump of coal?

Now that I understand how things work, I deeply regret some of my actions. Mistakes were made. I was young and maybe a tad impetuous. You live, you learn, you move on.

I hope Santa Claus notices how good I am all the time. Whatever he brings me, whether it be a lump of coal or something nice, I still hope he just leaves it outside under a little pine straw.

Chi-ao!