Christmas Come Early

Remember when you were a kid and you could just stare at your Christmas tree for hours? I have visceral memories of my brother and me sitting in front of our tree, just gazing at it. And it was more than the anticipation of presents. Sitting there awed by the lights and the way they made the garland twinkle, steeped in the piney smell... feeling warm, loved, and loving.

I remembered that feeling last night as Chris and I sat gazing at Piper. You see, Piper had surgery yesterday. Right on the heels of me posting that nasty poem about him not being manly, he had to go take on some barbed wire. To the tune of 5 stitches. And since he had to be put "completely under" (reassuring words), the vet asked if we would like him neutered right away too.

Aw, man!?! Is there any irony here? In his venture to prove his manliness, he ends up in a situation where he is going to be permanently un-"manned." Poor Piper.

So there we were without our puppy until 6:00 last night. No licks when I got home from school, no one constantly under Chris's and my feet. We needed our dog back! At 6:00 sharp, we were at that vet's office. Piper staggered out to the car with us and slept, snoring alternating with whimpering, all the way home.

We pulled our mattress into the living room and put his bed right next to it. Then we just sat there together. Looking at him. Counting his heartbeats, soothing his whimpers, being there every time he opened his eyes. It felt like those Christmases. Watching a tree where nothing much was happening. But there was a whole lot happening. And we all felt it.

Christmas come early.