Hey everyone,
So it's of course that time of year, the time when the humans put up trees inside, cover them with lights and dangly things that I'm constantly wackin' off with my tail, strange wrapped packages under the tree, and My favorite part, extra food! Even though I don't get any, occasionally, my patience pays off. I'll explain.
My spot in this house, or one of them anyway, is right at the kitchen door. This spot allows me to watch everythin' that's bein' done in the kitchen. This involves food of all kinds. I sit patiently, sometimes lay down and wait patiently, watchin' curiously as my Dasher mom and sometimes my mom move about mixin', cuttin', and bakin'. The smells that eminate are to die for. You'd think this would be torture for any self respectin' lab and that I'd be far far away so as to not tempt myself. With my allergies I'm lucky to have any treats I suppose. But no, now I come to another reason I enjoy my spot at the kitchen door. Sometimes, the overwhelming smell of the food is like a magnet that just pulls me further and further in the kitchen. I keep a close eye on the humans as I first inch my paws on to the kitchen floor. From there, I stretch my neck in even further. Most of the time this doesn't offer any rewards because my Dasher mom is usually all the way across the kitchen' preparin' food. But at this time of the year, she's workin' closer to me because it's where she does the mixin'. So already, several times I've managed to snarf a tiny sample before Dasher mom notices just how far the magnetic force of her cookin' and bakin' has drawn me in. Shoot it ain't my falt! I can't help myself! Now give me some of that you're makin'. This is the season of givin' so hand it over. If I get my front paws in the kitchen, and stretch out my neck as far as I can, I can taste a few things though. A piece of dough flew off and landed on my head tonight and with a little shake, it fell and I got it. "Reba get out of here Miss nosiness! You know better!" Sure I do but I got a sample I got a sample. So again I say, this is totally the coolest place in the entire house other than my crate. My crate means lots of treats too. My dasher dad gave me two of my cookies tonight. Sweet!
Another part of this time of year is how much runnin' around the humans seem to do. Poor Dasher hates it. I can't even tell you the amount of times he's been stepped on recently. I keep tellin' him he needs to stay out of the way then. Find a spot and stay there and watch. But he can't sit still. So, suffer bein' stepped on then. Notice Reba hasn't been stepped on or tripped over. I know how to stay out of the way, but still make my presence known. Excuse me Dasher mom, give me a piece of that apple you're cuttin' up.
And it ain't just at home either. When we go out, the crowds are just everywhere, and it's all the same. Hussle bussle, decorations, and more lights wrapped around trees.
Today we went back to that store with all the guitars in it. Mom had to have new strings put on her guitar. Guess they ware out after a while. I laied quietly by her on the floor till someone started playin' a guitar plugged in to a box that made it a hundred times louder than normal. There goes Reba vibratin' on the floor again. Shoot! I stayed though, even if I did lift my head and shoot my most disgusted look in that direction.
Afterwards, mom and I had a challenge. We had to find my Dasher mom. So we walked out and mom said Reba left. So off we went. Mom started tellin' me, left Reba, find the door. So I looked and looked. I saw a door, and hesitated at it, but mom didn't pick up on my signal. Kind of my falt, I wasn't as sure myself. So we tried again. This time, I pulled her hard left at a door. We went inside, but it wasn't the place we needed. Mom still praised me up though for findin' the door and out we went. We turned around, and headed back to the first door I hesitated at. I got it this time, and within minutes, I found my Dasher mom too. O yeh! Go Reba! Now give me an apple.
Mom said somethin' about Winston comin' soon so I hope she right. Though I'll miss my stuffed toys if he do come. Mom puts them away when he comes. She better leave one out though I mean it. I gotta have one in my crate. Ok, I'll go for now, this entry's been a long one. I'm tired from beggin', I mean, observin' at the kitchen door today. Y'all be good, don't do anythin' I wouldn't do.
Reba the dog.