Mr. Becky’s birthday is December 25th, so it’s tradition at The Compound to celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve and (try to) let him have his own day. The Rhonda and Lindsey had dinner with us tonight and then stayed to open gifts. There was much oohing, ahhing, and laughter throughout the evening, as well as some barking. From the dogs, that is. Puddles is spending a long holiday weekend at The Compound, and Sugar is visiting with her moms, so, all told, there were six dogs running amok. As the piles of presents dwindled, Becky pointed to a solitary gift resting on the coffee table and said, “Don’t forget that one.”
“Oh, yeah.” I beckoned to Pixie and said, “It’s yours, Pixie.” She bumped it with her nose and then moved on, since it didn’t smell edible, but I plucked her from the floor and deposited her in my lap so we could open the gift together. I removed a small box from the red and green wrapping paper and opened it. Nestled inside was a gleaming silver object. “It’s a new name tag,” I explained to Pixie and everyone around us. “Her new name is on it: Pixie Lambert.”
I hugged her tight and said, “Welcome home, Pixie.”
Later, alluding to an ongoing inside joke at The Compound, Mr. Becky said, “You’re keeping Pixie, so does this mean you’re keeping Rex, too?”
“We’ll see,” I replied.