Monday, December 1, 2008

Jib Here - Dear Santa,

Dear Santa,
This is Jib. Only Mom calls me Desperado. Again. Well, she really called me, NONO Not Again You Desperado. Again. When she says this, she usually runs for towels.
I tried to be good. Really I did. But the hose was dangling there just barely out of reach. And it dripped. It dripped, dripped, dripped into Zoe’s water bucket. It was a tease drip. A big tease drip. And today I could jump high enough to reach the drip. Last time I tried, I couldn’t, all because Mom put it out of my reach. But Mom says I am growing. So now I can reach it.
And I did. I reached it. And I grabbed it. And I bit it. And the snozzle came part way off. And that made a big spray all over the place. That’s how my face got all wet.
And Sailor barked from his dog run, calling Mom to tell her I was in trouble again. But Mom wasn’t here. So he couldn’t tell on me.
Santa, all I wanted to do was grab the hose and play in the water. It’s really fun to bite the water and catch the spray in my mouth. That’s how my head all wet.
And it’s really fun to prance around shaking the hose. The snozzle feels good snapping around in my mouth. The spray sounds good bouncing off the doghouse roof. And it makes an even better sound bouncing around inside Zoe’s dogloo. That’s how my back and sides got all wet.
It’s really fun to water the dog yard, the deck, the house, and the fence. It makes the back windows drippy and muddy. And it’s really fun to splash in the puddles, too. That’s how my feet got all wet. I don’t know how my belly got so muddy, though. I wasn’t paying attention.
And it was really fun to sit in a puddle and watch the hose spray gravel and mud all over. That’s how my kilts got all wet and muddy.
It was fun, anyway, until Mom came home. She screamed and turned the water off and dragged me out of the dog yard by my collar. That’s when she called me Desperado. And then she ran for towels. And then she gave me a bath and took my picture afterwards because she said I won't stay that way, I will probably blow it again. But, SHE was the one who blew it. She blew me dry.
But, Santa, does this mean that you won’t mush your reindeer to my house this year? I only did this for fun. I didn’t mean to dig a hole in the mud big enough to make a lake when the hose got away from me. Zoe taught me how to dig, so it really wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t Zoe’s fault, either. She is a Siberian and can’t be held responsible.
And besides, Sailor has been good enough to make up for today. And for last summer, too, when the hose leaped into my mouth and I just had to bite it. Off. And make a giant lake. My first lake. (I was rather proud.)
So please come to my house and bring me a squeaky sheep and some freeze-dried liver and a Glow in the Dark Frisbee. And bring Zoe and Sailor something, too, but make my present bigger.

Jib, the Desperado who really didn’t mean it. Or at least, I didn’t mean to get caught.

P.S. If you are looking for Cookies For Santa, I ate them. But Zoe nosed a chicken wing way far under the couch, so you can have that. If you can reach it. I can’t; my nose is too short. (Never thought you’d hear THAT from a collie, did you?)

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