Happy Christmas, everyone. (I suppose it's only because it's not so common that I prefer "happy" to "merry." Familiarity and contempt, you know).
It was a quiet day here; we opened presents -- way too many -- had breakfast (fresh cut bacon with eggs and homemade biscuits) and dinner (Prime Rib and the trimmings). And we're supposed to be vegans! We probably shouldn't make this a tradition.
It was a quiet day here; until I mutilated three bears! The stuffed variety, but still.
We gave each of the dogs a new teddy bear for Christmas. Paulo, the only puppy, was also the only one to really take to his new playmate. Within hours it was shy an eye. I realized it was time to act. To protect Paulo’s innards I surgically removed all the remaining eyes from all three bears.
It was not a pretty sight.
Oddly, I had just recently shared the lines below from a popular Christmas carol with my friend Don. Somehow they make more sense now. Christmas is about bleeding and dying. Who knew?
Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes of life of gathering gloom
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
All three patients are recovering well.
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