Home for the holidays on a 3-dog night
The season blew in on a Christmas wish. It was as if every dream for a “White Christmas” that Bing Crosby had ever dreamed had suddenly come true in a single, days-long maelstrom of wind and snow.
The wise had taken heed to the warnings, laid in supplies and settled in for the proverbial “long winter’s night” — which was actually two days and two nights long by the time it was safe to go outside. And while Kristin and I would love to count ourselves among the wise, the more honest take would be we were merely among the lucky. Hunkered down by circumstance, we had nowhere in particular to go and no particular time to be there at Christmastime this year.
The past decade had watched us travel anywhere the military had chosen to station our daughter — North Carolina, Virginia, Kentucky and, my favorite from a story-teller perspective, Arctic Upstate New York. All of this had been new and exciting for a couple who had grown up only 45 minutes apart and could fit both sides of the family into a single, glorious, Christmas-cookie-and-holiday-ham fueled day if need be. But the novelty of travel was admittedly growing thin, and four, eight or 12 hours in a car had become as much punishment as adventure.
We were infinitely happy to be home for the holidays this year, and nothing was about to break our cheer, not a snow storm, not a deep freeze, not even a howling northwest wind that found its way into our walls, turning every pipe in our bathroom to stone. Sure, going a couple of days without a proper wash-up can be a bit challenging, but when weighed against a round-trip drive of 24 hours, it was nothing.
Interestingly, while Kristin and I sat happily at home in holiday mode, the same daughter we had endeavored to chase around the country was now off with her own little family unit, visiting the in-laws in New England. And while babies and toddlers can be somewhat easily accommodated on commercial aircraft these days, such is not the case for 80-pound dogs — especially when they come in pairs. Therefore, Jax and Beasley, Charlotte’s Belgian Malinois, got to spend Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa’s.
The indigenous inhabitants of the Far North know well the value of a warm dog on a cold night, and the term “three-dog night” rang comically true as Kristin and I lay compressed into the box spring under the weight of our dog Frankie and his twin cousins. While on paper the set-up should have played out like a living version of the “weighted blankets” that have been all the rage of the past few years, the licking, groaning, itching and twitching reality of the situation proved untenable within minutes. I repaired to the living room sofa with Frankie while Kristin was left to snuggle with the grands.
Likely picking up the visual cue of over-sized dog tracks outside our door, Old Saint Nick must have waved off our place on Christmas Eve. Such was certainly for the better as a midnight encounter with this crew would have most likely ended badly. Even so, no one was left wanting for the warmth of the holiday, no matter how cold and blustery the night.
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John atjlorson@alonovus.com.
