We were all ready to head out for our Christmas vacation. Yup, the suitcases were in the car, and I was loaded snugly in next to them. I wasn’t sure where were going, but I’m never picky, so I settled down for the drive.
The car came to a stop only a few miles from home, and what to my wondering eyes should appear? I can promise you it wasn’t a sleigh or reindeer. It wasn’t even a stop at Miss Beverly’s camp for a stay while Mum and Dad were out of town. Noooo. We pulled up at The Ark Pet Resort.
Yes, I did write about this spot and I did stay there once for only one night, but stay for five nights? How could they? Where was Santa when Mum and Dad came up with this idea? I was certainly nice, not naughty, and did not deserve to be banished to stay with other dogs. Harrumph!
When Mum and Dad finally came back to get me, Mum told me she had noticed me on the video cam doing lots of lying around while the other inmates−I mean dogs−wandered by, sniffed me and went on to play amongst themselves. Naturally, that’s what she saw. The commoners are always in awe of Lord Banjo, and the Lord is rarely interested in joining in their foolish games.
You must recall that we Great Pyrenees are calm watch dogs. None of this mindless frolicking for us. Thank goodness Mum and Dad returned bearing gifts for Puddin' and me. I’m not letting on that I’m royally pleased with the red and white Christmas collar they brought me, but I do think it looks stunning with my fluffy black coat. Mum says I can wear it through New Years Day before it’s packed away for next year.
I much prefer my stylish collar to the silly rubber duckies Puddin’ got for the water bowl. With some regular walks, nonstop belly rubs, and a bit of groveling, the royal parents will soon be back in my good graces. Let’s keep that a secret for now, though; OK?