How Santa lost his squeaker; or, how toys become real
It should come as no surprise that, by the 10th day of Christmas, Santa's squeaker was gone. I think, actually, it went missing around the fifth day. Meanwhile, Santa is looking a bit ragged. But I love him just the same.
Mom just read me The Velveteen Rabbit, so I'm wondering, did Santa become Real after I loved him, or was he Real even before? Anyway, he's definitely Real now.
Speaking of Real, there are some real rabbits who have moved in underneath the playhouse. I caught the scent when I returned from my vaca, and Mom spotted the signs. Licorice and Nutmeg must be thrilled. Wonder if they'll let me play with them. Of course, I will be much more careful with them than I was with Santa. Much.
Every dog has its dreams. I'm Tucker, a Walker Foxhound, who, like my predecessor Sparky, a Dalmatian, was adopted from Buddy Dog Humane Society in Sudbury, MA. We have inspired a doggie bakery, Dreams du Dog, influenced the construction of a 6-foot fence, and underwritten several veterinary practices.