I have a Christmas Story to share with you.
My kids have these 2 brat dogs that listen to me, not them. When the oldest one, who is a Ridgeback (she’s now 3) was little, she learned from me what my son’s name was. She knows him by name. She also learned my daughters name. My son thought it was funny, so he taught her to acknowledge me as GRANDma. When she would get in trouble by the kids I would say to her “Is GRANDma’s GRANDpuppy getting in trouble?” She would come over and get up in my lap to tattle on them. She was a lot smaller then. Now she’s a very large dog. She’s golden and if her tale was docked and she had white spots on her backside she could pass for a baby deer. The other brat dog is a Chow Chow that is black and tan. He’s half the size of the Ridgeback. He’s 1 and also knows me as GRANDma, yet feels it necessary to sleep with me. He’s kind of a scaredy cat for the most part and always looks at me to see if it’s okay.
These two dogs start jawing, that dogs do in play, in the house. Everyday I have to send them outside at least 4 or 5 times to play. Of course, they have a doggy door. That would be my kitchen door that goes out into the backyard. I actually had to replace the kitchen door last year, that was a wood door that my Ridgeback and Chow split in half as they both tried to go out the doggy door it at the same time. I now have a metal door that looks like wood.
I sent them outside tonight for the umteenth time to play. It’s the Moon. They kept knocking into the Christmas Tree and crushing anything in their path. After they went outside, a few minutes later I got up to go into the kitchen and both of those dogs came through that doggy door 80 miles an hour and my Ridgeback ran into me knocking me down in the kitchen floor. It kind of gave a new meaning to the song “Grandma got run over by a Reindeer.” I can actually say I have experienced it first hand. I hate when that happens.