The dog who stole Christmas

Early in his life, before he grew to loathe other dogs, our mutt had all the makings of a benign dictator-in-waiting.

He made liberal claims to territory, marking anything that crested the lofty height of three inches as his own.
Cartoon of a dog urinating vigorously against a fence and thinking, 'Mine.' Continue reading

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Slaying Santa

Now that Christmas is in sight, I am once again readying myself for The Conversation.

It won’t be the first time I’ve had to do it, but it never gets any easier.

Each year they ask me about it, but no-one actually wants to hear the answer. As soon as the first sentence leaves my mouth, they swell with outrage, they call me a Grinch, they tell me I’m No Fun At All.

Mind you, these aren’t my kids we’re talking about – these are my friends and acquaintances. Typically they’re people with younger children, and they’re weighing up the best time and way to break the news about Santa in their household.

They ask: “When did you tell your kids?”, “What did you say?”, “How did they react?”

But I’m no help whatsoever, because I’ve never been in that situation.

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