A Maizie Christmas….



Before I launch into Christmas via Maizie’s perspective, let me introduce her. Maizie is a 7 year old Golden Lab. Unlike many Golden Labs, she has a brown nose and non-black eyes. This is probably due to the fact that her ancestors were largely chocolate. Thus, I sometimes refer to Maizie as “the orange dog.” She is VERY golden!

Her parents are owned by “farm people,” and thus, in her puppy phase she grew up with kittens. As a result she possesses a few cat-like traits. I sometimes call her “cat dog”, but in a good way. Maizie will turn 8 in March and thus, she is slowing down. But, she still has boisterous puppy moments and her face and body language are very, very expressive.

She’s a Beta dog to the nth degree! She’s grown up alone, so one of her worst faults is she doesn’t handle other dogs’ presence well. She’s rather passive-aggressive about it. However, she’s learning to deal with the holiday invasion of family dogs better than in her younger years.

She’s a chunk because her male master is a carnivore and she has figured out how to give him the saddest puppy faces in the world. We’ve had to steel ourselves so we quit giving her treats! She’s on “healthy weight” dog food and still manages to be a chunk.

Maizie is ridiculously smart. She has actually taught herself commands we never intended for her to learn. So, we now spell around her. Yes, spell. Her trainer said, “Be careful–Labs learn to spell.” So, without further adieu, here is Maizie’s take on Christmas with our family:

It must be that time of year again. The Mom person has now cut off rapid access to my favorite door–the one by my dog bowls that leads me to freedom! She puts up these weird green structures all over the house. They tend to be rather cone-shaped and then she hangs all kinds of stupid stuff all over them. I don’t get it.

Anyway, since there are so many of these things everywhere, two are right in front of the rapid access door and it’s a royal pain. I now have to go all the way through the Dad person’s office and then wind around to my dog bowl room to get to my favorite door. I tolerate this inconvenience only because I want more treats and if I behave, I get more of those.

She also hangs really large sox from that fireplace structure. What up with that???

One of the good things about this time of year is that the Mom person actually hangs out in the kitchen. I have no earthly explanation for this other than more people are around and she and the Dad person practically live there. If I hang out there long enough, my favorite treat (The people call it cheese.) will eventually drift to the floor and I keep the floor clean for them. I dutifully lay down, since this seems to make the people happy and gets me more treats, but it makes no sense at all. If I sit, I’m much closer to the cheese.

If you think the cone-shaped monuments are awful, this time of year brings “Competition.” I have to put up with four other canines at this time of year and they are just the most annoying creatures on the planet. They sniff my hind quarters constantly, bark incessantly, and steal my bones. If I have the audacity to try and steal them back, they growl at me. Hello? This is my domicile and you’re MY freaking bone. This is not a socialist system!

One of them, who seems to visit for long periods of time periodically resembles a really big hot dog. Thankfully, she is getting just as pudgy as I am and now prefers to sleep a lot. She hogs my Mom person’s attention and is even allowed in her lap if my Mom person sits in a particular chair. I don’t recall being given that privilege. And when the hot dog sits in her lap, she endlessly gets petted. I’d go chew my bone during these lengthy petting sessions, except she’s taken all of them. And hidden them.

Black is not my favorite color. Why? Black must by synonymous with trouble. So, black is NOT the new orange, if you ask me.  Naturally, two of the Competition are black. One is very small, loud and never stops moving. She’s Lord of the Couch. Okay, Lady of the Couch. If I get on the couch, I get yelled at. If she gets on the couch, I get barked at. She barks at anything that moves. And even things that don’t. For her size she moves faster than a speeding bullet. She’s the Seabiscuit of canines. (Yes, I watch movies. Hello? “Marley and Me”?) If there’s ever a Kentucky derby for canines, I’m putting my dog bones on her.

The other black dog resembles a horse. This one likes to head butt my side. He can’t seem to leave me alone. It’s like he’s my shadow or something. A really tall shadow. He also gets to do his business in the house. I have to go outside, even if it’s raining, snowing or 150 degrees outside. He does get in trouble for this and his people spray this awful-smelling stuff in those places. Now, my entire house smells awful. It’s a Communist plot.  He is getting nicer as time goes on, so there may be peace in our time.

The newest member of the Competition is a dust mop. A moving dust mop. His favorite activity? Sleeping. If he ever wakes up, I could see myself hanging out with this dude because he’s not overly fond of the black dogs, either. He’s rather small, too, so I think I can take him. He has zero interest in my bones so I’m already a fan of the dust mop.

What do I do about the Competition? I hang out in the Mom and Dad persons room a LOT. My comfy pillow is there, I can sleep in peace and occasionally, I can sneak a bone in there. I only come out when the Dad person cuts up meat and cheese or I have to go outside to do my business. But I sure do have to muscle my way next to the Dad person because he’s surrounded. And not in a good way. All I have to say about this is size matters.

I do like some other things from this time of year. I  get really big bones and I don’t even have to sit or lay down to get one! They come in one of the big sox. Don’t ask me why. I’ve stopped trying to figure out the Mom person. She’s just weird.

The other nice thing is that if there are more people around, I get my ears rubbed, my belly rubbed, paw massages, and booty scratches a lot more often. (What? You don’t get paw massages or booty scratches? I can’t help it if you aren’t adorable.)

It’s a relief when the Competition leaves. I have the entire domicile to myself, no endless butt sniffing, supreme rule over the cheese droppings, and peace on earth, goodwill to Labs.

Monday’s Post: Do you know the meaning of mythomania?

You Might Also Like: Changes Since the Maizie Arrived

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This entry was posted on Friday, January 8th, 2016 at 10:50 am and is filed under Fun Stuff. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.


  1. January 11th, 2016 | Liesa says:

    Maizie is a lot sassier than I remember. Must be the old age. And the black horse only tinkled once last time!! My favorite line (not sure why) is, “The people call it cheese.”

  2. January 12th, 2016 | maryann says:

    She only gets sassy when alone or so she tells me.

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