Sitting while we saw. What an angel.
Behold the noble beast.
She roams the wet wilderness as her humans seek the perfect Christmas tree, wagging as she walks and occasionally stopping to stare at a fellow canine assigned to the same task.
Quite the regal lady, she walks with aristocratic bearing and just a hint of street swagger, her nose to the ground, ever in pursuit of delicious scents. Now and then, she accidentally wraps her leash about a stubby little fir, but cleverly follows her human's prompts for corrective action. She stops, as her family does, to evaluate this tree and that, and while her mind may wander during these sessions, her little red rump stays firmly seated on the ground.
"Alright, folks, that tree is properly loaded. Now someone please
open up the back door and let me get out of this mud."
She's come a long way, my lassie has, in proper holiday field etiquette, and though she still behaves like an ape at times, today at the Christmas tree farm, Gracie was simply an angel.
* * * * *
Not every trip to the Christmas tree farm is quite so lovely.
Get all the gory details in my reports of our annual adventures:
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