‘Tis the season, I am told, to be sure one is in the proper column when it comes to Santa’s list. But is it possible to be a little bit of BOTH naughty and nice?
The other afternoon I went on a bit of a runabout, and somehow an exciting adventure that felt so NICE at the time moved me onto the NAUGHTY list faster than Santa can jiggle his belly.
My mom is always saying things like "You can do it, Sophie," and "Be brave, Sophie," but when I take charge of the situation and break through the Invisible Fence, running like the wind over the hills and through the woods, she has a problem with it.
“I don’t understand it. We just got back from a five-mile hike. I let her off in the yard and turn to put something away in the garage, and POOF! she’s GONE!”
Um, hello. It’s called a deer. Two of them, actually, taunting me from the back edge of the meadow. Twitching their hairy ears and stomping their fuzzy feet and just BEGGING me to try to catch them. As I approached, they turned to the woods and their flashing white tails became a siren song pulsing through my veins.
Follow us. Follow us. Follow us.
What dog in their right mind would say no?
And so I ran like the wind. Leaping over logs. Twisting around tree trunks and bursting through brushy buckthorn stands. Down past the marsh, up the hill, and eventually emerging behind the house where the three yappy schnauzers live.
I stopped on the edge of their yard, panting. Oh, what a chase it had been! Talk about exhilaration. I could still smell the musky scent of the frightened deer, and I was certain they would have a LOT more respect for me the next time they twitched their abnormally large ears at the edge of the meadow.
I am The Dog Who Runs. Nobody messes with me.
Wait. There! Smell it? A most wonderful and exotic scent was coming from the culvert. I sniffed my way down the ravine and into the tall grass. A bit of animal hair and decomposing slime beckoned from the mud near the entrance. ‘This is the best day ever,’ I thought, and dropped my shoulder onto that amazing early Christmas present straight from the arms of Mother Nature. This was truly a gift that would keep on giving, for I could smell it even as I began to wander away from the serendipitous spot.
What a scented candle is to an owner’s home, a smear of slime is to the shoulder of a dog. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Ahhh. Amazing, isn’t it?
“Why yes, I just got it the other day. Over by the culvert on the next street. Isn’t it delightful? Such earthy tones.”
“HEY! THERE YOU ARE!” My scent fantasy was rudely interrupted.
“Sophie, how could you not hear me whistling and calling?” As rhetorical questions go, this was definitely one that was best left unanswered judging by the tone of my mother’s voice. “I have been looking for you for over an HOUR!”
I jumped into the back of the SUV as she spoke tersely into her phone. “I finally found her. Thanks so much for looking. Can you tell the others? Thanks again.”
Mom shut off the phone, glared at me, then closed the hatch.
“You are so naughty.” She drew the last two words out into a low growl as she started the car. “The entire neighborhood was out looking for you.”
I decided it couldn’t hurt to look a bit remorseful, so I tried to widen my eyes and flatten my ears on the short drive back home. I wished I had a mirror to see if I was actually achieving the contrite look I was going for.
At least there was still the delightfully earthy aroma on my left shoulder to calm me, but experience had taught me that humans don't always enjoy Mother Nature's scented gifts the same way that dogs do.
“Omigosh, what is that horrible smell?”
My mom opened the back of the SUV and leaned in a bit. “What is all over your shoulder? Sophie! You have GOT to be kidding me. You run away AND you roll in something disgusting? You are SO naughty!”
I tried to atone for my previous behavior and was VERY good as my mom washed all of the scintillating scent down the drain. I hoped Santa was watching because I did not shake once as she dried me off and, in return, she finally stopped muttering ‘naughty dog’ every two minutes.
She did, however, tell me several times just how many new gray hairs I had given her while I had been The Dog Who Runs.
Later, while I was dozing on the couch after my busy day, my mom came up and gave me a snuggle and a kiss. “I was so worried about you,” she said. “What if something had happened to you?”
I was hoping that meant I had moved firmly back onto the NICE list, but then mom lifted her head and looked at me.
“Phew. Your shoulder still stinks!” She stood up and wrinkled her nose. “You were SUCH a naughty girl today.”
As I snuggled deeper into the blanket, the faint aroma of decomposition drifted up and once again I was reminded of how some things in life can be both a little bit naughty and a little bit nice at the same time.
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