To gird me against a pyschological letdown, Mike had explained that when Heather and he moved to Seattle, Heather had instituted a “no-presents” rule. Whether it was Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day, even Canada Day–no presents! This was of course very convenient for Heather, who has neither the time nor inclination to buy presents, even if she should happen to remember the occasion at all. But I digress.
And when all is said and done, I am pleased to report that I did not suffer from the “no-presents” rule. Even though they did desert me on my official “birthday,” Feb. 5, they have already managed to redeem themselves with the weekend in Port Townsend and assorted trinkets along the way. (I’m still sucking on that lamb shank they brought back from Tampa!) Meanwhile, other friends and relatives, no doubt fearful that I might be forgotten, also added to my birthday haul. Yes, that beautiful sweater from my brothers Frank and Stanley was but the first of many gifts I accumulated during the month-long Dachshunds Day celebration.
Aunts Susie and Debby came through with a nice birthday card, a squeaky football and some deli-bacon cheese treats. Appealing to the Canadian side of the family, the football has labeling in French as well as English, and the deli treats are flavored like cheddar cheese and Canadian bacon. Since the deli treats were impossible to break into pieces, Mike was forced to give me a whole one. I devoured its cheesy outer shell and hard, bacony interior in about 15 minutes, and Mike noted that it came out the next day in about the same colors and proportions as it had when it went in. Didn’t take no 15 minutes, either.
After a month of enjoying all of my gifts, I have to rate these bouncy blue balls, a gift from my best friend Lynn, as my best present. They are really fast and easy to find outside, so we hardly ever use tennis balls on our walks anymore. I might as well give them all to the Seattle Animal Shelter.
And here’s the biggest birthday surprise. Even Heather “No Presents” Tully got me a gift. He’s lime green, soft, and relatively light, so when Mike picks him up and bops me in the head with him or sticks him under my collar so I have to carry him around on my back, it’s not too bad. He’s OK. I call him Gator, like he’s a tough guy, but really, he’s not very fierce. He’s certainly no Foxy!
Even better, I’m pretty sure Heather got me some other toys along with Gator. She must be saving them for some other celebration. Maybe they’re for the anniversary of the day I came home with them last March. Hmmm…that must be it. Now there’s something else to look forward to. Let’s do it all again.