I love Christmas trees. I love the lights, the pretty bows, the individual decorations that mark milestones in the life of a family. One of my favorite parts of Christmas is sitting in front of the lit up, fully decorated tree, with all the house lights out, contemplating the simple beauty of the season, of the complexities of the human heart, of the very tree before me while sipping hot chocolate or some steamy chai. It is a tradition that my mother and I had together and one that I carry on, often alone as my son has been too young to fully enjoy this little tradition until recently. And, owing to the fact that trees are expensive and we simply cannot indulge our desires in that avenue, I thought I would not have that tradition at all this year. It did not phase me at all. I am so full of the spirit this year that having nothing, or close to, will not phase me. I will give what I can and trust that God will make it more than I ever dreamed it to be. Just like the story of the feeding of the crowd with just a few fish and a few loaves of bread.

So, I was not going to have a tree. Instead I was thinking of all the wonderful ways I was going to decorate my home. Last year I had moved and did not have the energy or space to decorate, but this year is different and so my excitement and spirit are high. And, as I came in from my lunch of shopping for ideas for gifts and sat down in my cube, my spirits rose even higher. There on my floor was a four foot plastic tree in a box. My office Secret Santa had decided to give me my present early according to the attached note. Immediately I turned away from my lunch partner and grabbed at my tissues. Tears had welled up. I don't know if my Secret Santa will ever know how much they have touched my life. Just to make sure that they know how very grateful I am I told all of my office friends, letting them know exactly how much the thought means to me and to thank my Secret Santa. There's no way to truly express my gratitude or to show how wonderful they have made my life by this simple gesture. I pray that they are rewarded with blessings upon blessings.

I'd like to take this time to introduce the newest member of our family, Kelly the dog. She's loyal, cuddly, and smart. Unfortunately, I believe she has a touch of ADHD which causes a bit of a problem when playing fetch as she will start to drop the ball and then stop, turn around as if she is changing her mind and then stop again, turn back to myself or Bug, act as if she is dropping the ball and then start all over again with her little dance.

Of course Kelly and Bug get along perfectly in this area. See, I will often send him on an errand such as brushing his teeth or grabbing a book off of a shelf and he will turn away from me to do it, walk two steps, then turn back to me, walk two steps, turn away from me and put his hands on his head and look forlornly into a room. Of course he has a faraway look on his face before he looks forlorn. Yes, I do save him from this bereft feeling of having no idea what so ever of what he is doing. It's a pretty terrible feeling. I know, I have it all the time when I'm coming out of a daydream and find myself at some task or another. Unlike my son, though, I can usually follow a thread of thought back to where I was in order to figure out what I am doing. With Bug it usually takes questioning what he is doing. I would just direct him again, but he remains in his lost world with these directions. Plus, isn't it better that I teach him how to find that string of thought to find his own way? That's what I thought. Besides, where would the fun of being a mother of a child with ADHD be if I couldn't watch and enjoy the show on occasion?

But I digress. This blog is about Kelly and how she was placed so perfectly in our lives. For some time now Bug has wanted a four legged, furry friend. Unfortunately we rent and so are limited by our landlord on what type of canine that we could bring into our home (no breeds of a violent reputation). Now, as cute and cuddly as I find these dogs, I understand that reputation preceeds these creatures and that this will often cause conflicts socially for them as well as for us. So it wasn't a problem to go along with the restriction. A small dog would work perfectly for us, but I didn't really want a rat that barked and my little sister said she would beat me with her laptop if I got anything lighter than her laptop. A mixed breed of some sort would be perfect. But of course all we were finding were Rottweilers and Pittbulls, Chihuahuas and dogs bigger than my house.

So, I bided my time. I took Bug to the homes of friends with dogs. I volunteered Bug to babysit dogs. And we even visited a couple of shelters to "play" with dogs. (Okay, the last thing we did only once.) Of course all of these things did not make up for having our very own pup, but it would have to do. We just could not find the perfect pup for us.

I was about to give up hope and had actually not thought seriously about adopting a dog for a few months. Bug and I were settling into the life of wishful dog thinking and dog borrowing when we decided to visit a dear friend as they were moving from the Bay Area to Washington. My friend and her son had two dogs, one Chihuahua that almost never stopped barking and one Chocolate Lab that I had never met. I had forgotten about the Lab, her presence had only been made known within the last couple of months. So, when she came bounding up to us at the front door I was pleasantly surprised. She was beautiful and friendly and we fell in love immediately. Of course I was my spunky self and immediately exclaimed,"Oh, she's beautiful! Can we take her home?" I always get myself in trouble with these remarks. This instance was nothing new as my friend responded with,"Really? You want her? We are looking for a home for her. We can't take her to Washington."

Come to find out, my friend had Kelly because the old owners (aquaintences of some sort) duped her. She had agreed to watch the dog for a weekend so that the original owners could have a pool party. Of course, when the weekend was over and it was time to pick Kelly up, the old owners simply said that they didn't want her anymore and so were not going to pick her up. So, my animal loving friend kept her until she couldn't keep her anymore. And that's when I came into the picture with my quip that was meant more as a compliment, but ended up being a door opener to a complete blessing.

Now we have Kelly. Can you believe it? An absolute perfect blessing as she is six years old, already trained in so many ways, completely adoring of Bug (it is his dog, after all), and full of energy which gets us off our couch and out into the great world of walks and parks. Everything happens for a reason and I am in full belief that Kelly came to us at the perfect time. So, join me in welcoming our pretty pup!

I need a cookie. Anyone have a chocolate chip cookie they are willing to part with? It's for the good of the nation, trust me. There is plenty of evidence to prove that a Cranky Cay is not what you want. Or a sad one. You know the saying "cry me a river"? Well, let's just say the Mississippi has nothing on me! So, hand over the cookie and no one gets hurt. For now anyway. But, if you truly want to stay safe, keep an arsonal of cookies available. And when you see the tick in my lip as the beast begins to take over, start chucking them in my direction and RUN! Because there is no telling what will happen if you stick around: you'll either lose a limb or end up drowning in the puddle of tears.

Anyone have a chocolate chip cookie?