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MERRY CHRISTMAS! WHERE'S THE SALMON.

December 24, 2004

Well, Christmas has switched into high gear over here at the Doxie residences, and by "residences," I mean not just MY house, but also my parents' house, where we will all be spending Christmas, and y'all, we are ALL FREAKING OUT.

The majority of our pre-Christmas experience can be summed up by an actual, true conversation that occurred between my mother and myself, and...unfortunately, we've lost our minds. No, seriously. It's sad. Send help.

Yesterday, I walked into my parents' house, and immediately heard a strange and frightening shrieking coming from somewhere in the kitchen area. So, suspicious and concerned, I went to go check it out. And there, standing in the middle of the kitchen, was my poor mother, her hands on her hips and her eyes all wild. And as soon as she saw me, she pointed at me, and in this crazed, banshee-like voice, shrilled: "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE SALMON?"

TURNS OUT, my mother had gotten home from the grocery store, let the dogs out, and started putting away the groceries. About halfway through, she went to let the dogs back in. And she counted. And there was one dog missing. And that dog was Bo.

Now, y'all may remember that Bo is Wilful. And, also, Bad. And when mom couldn't find him, she called, but he did not come. Which surprised nobody. Because Bo feels that he should not be shackled by the antiquated requirements of "coming when called." He is sort of like a cat that way.

And my parents have a fenced yard, but as mom went to look for him, she saw that one of the gates was ever-so-slightly open. Which meant that Bo could have gotten out. And "out", to my dogs, means "made an immediate beeline for the street, in order to hitchhike their small, brown way out of my home and off to a compound in Guam, where they will forever be free from the yoke of DIET DOG FOOD, because I am SO EVIL TO THEM."

So she panicked, and immediately began sprinting all over the yard, and the neighbor's yard, and up to the street, and all over Buckhead, pretty much, screaming, "BOOOOO" as loudly as a Southern lady can scream (and that is actually pretty loud, y'all). But still: no Bo. So she COMPLETELY freaks out, runs back to the house to call me on my phone to tell me that DOG IS FREE, REPEAT, DOG IS FREE, and she runs into the kitchen, and immediately trips over Bo, who had been chilling out in his dog bed THE ENTIRE TIME.

And it was about then that she realized that she'd lost the salmon. She had HAD the salmon when she started looking. Now, no salmon. Where did salmon go? This was the big question. And then I had walked in. NICE TIMING, SELF!

And so there we were, my poor, winded mother, staring crazy and BLAMING ME with every ounce of blame in her body (and again, Southern woman, so lots of that, too), and thinking WHY did she have to have a FIRST child, when she EASILY could have just skipped onto the SECOND, and the SECOND child has NEVER ONCE descended upon the household with FOUR FUCKING DOGS, and maybe she should just REWRITE THE WILL, NOW THAT SHE IS THINKING ABOUT IT.

But I didn't know any of this yet. All I knew was that I had walked in and found my mother screaming about salmon. And I was afraid. But she pointed at me, and the following occurred:

Mom: WHERE IS THE SALMON.

Self: I don't...know? Salmon?

Mom: FIND. THE FUCKING. SALMON.

Self: Right. Where, um...where might it be?

Mom: IT COULD BE ANYWHERE. THE STREET. OR THE YARD.

Self: The salmon may be in the...yard.

Mom: OR IT COULD BE IN THE CLOSET.

Self: Why in the HELL would the salmon be in the closet?

Mom: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.

Self: But I just GOT here!

Mom: FIND! THE! FUCKING! SALMON!

Self: OKAY! FINE.

Mom: LOOK IN THE GARDEN.

We eventually found the salmon. It was sitting on the front steps. NATURALLY.

But since then, things have been going pretty well. Tonight we'll have a big dinner, and then I'm going over to Dukay's house for his family's annual Christmas party. And the tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, and I wish you all the best. May your homes be filled with love and laughter, and your garden...with salmon.

Posted by doxie in The Dogs (Or, Poop) | permalink

15 Comments

Salmon, yum! (I was sure this story was going to end with the dogs covered in salmon-y glory, gorging themselves, and your mom's head exploding.)

Merry Christmas to all in the Doxie household!

Posted by: Kimmer | December 24, 2004 09:47 PM

I, too, was expecting that Bo would have eaten the salmon. After all, he has a cruel master who puts him on diets and stuff, what do you expect?

Merry Christmas and thanks for a year full of laughs. :)

Posted by: Rachel | December 24, 2004 09:54 PM

I'll admit, I was with Kimmer and Rachel on this one. Poor Bo. We were all so quick to assume his little stubborn self had absconded with it.

Just wanted to wish you, El Dukay and the rest of your family a very wonderful and Merry Christmas.

Also? I hope the salmon was damn good after all the emotional trauma!

Much Love, Scarlett Cyn

Posted by: Scarlett Cyn | December 25, 2004 05:41 PM

Merry Christmas!

If I were salmon at your mom's at Christmas, I think I'd hang out on the front steps too!

Posted by: Marcia | December 25, 2004 10:18 PM

Wow. Sorry, Bo. I totally envisioned you hightailing it (or lowtailing, as it were) down the street, salmon clenched firmly in your jaw. Poor Bo.
Hope you had a Merry Christmas!

Posted by: Heather | December 25, 2004 11:28 PM

Fortunately we didn't do anything for Christmas at our house this year. No doubt our Bo would have stolen the salmon and taken it to his kennel and removed the hands of anyone who tried to take it back. We went to our friend's house instead, where my mother got very drunk and said many foolish things, including my new favorite mom-quote: "Ish not riiiiight to be druuuuunk on Jeshush'sssss birfthdaaaaaay" Merry Christmas!

Posted by: Sally | December 26, 2004 01:23 PM

I am a new reader and love your stories. All I can say is "Thank God Christmas is over, again". What a stress fest. My doxies and I all ate too much and drank too much. Thankfully not salmon, though, it gives them that nasty fish breath the next day and they dont dig that whole toothbrushing scene. Anyway, thanks for the laughs. Please add me to a notify list if you still use one. Fuck the symphony and Happy New Year.

Posted by: Rocky | December 26, 2004 03:37 PM

If I were a salmon I would be in the water.

Posted by: El Dukay | December 27, 2004 09:33 AM

I lost my gruyere cheese this weekend and it never even OCCURRED to me to look for it in the garden. Maybe that's why I never found it. Then again, I have no garden. Crap.

Posted by: Martha | December 27, 2004 01:00 PM

Happy Monkey!

Posted by: Lissa | December 27, 2004 06:28 PM

Well, of COURSE the salmon was on the front steps. Because that's... the quickest way... get upstream?

Happy happy, missy. Hope Santa was good to you!

Posted by: Coleen | December 28, 2004 03:05 PM

I would like to tell you that I just had some cured salmon with dill, and my GOD it was yummy. I don't know, salmon made me think of you and your mom.

Monkey.

Posted by: Coleen | December 29, 2004 02:59 PM

Congrats on your Snarkiest Blog Nom over at the BoB's. It is nice to see I have such wonderful competition...

Posted by: kj4ever | December 29, 2004 04:11 PM

Look who's a finalist!

http://www.blogmechanics.com/bob/

Posted by: BoB | January 2, 2005 12:12 PM

Long time lurker. First time poster.

I have had that conversation with my kids. I don't think we were looking for a food item outside of the kitchen, but a non-food item within the kitchen. All I remember is trying to explain frantically that, "it could be in the fridge for all I know." And them staring up at me with that, mom's lost her mind look they so often times have, and saying, "why would it be in the fridge?"

So does that mean instead of growing up to be like my mother, I've grown up to be like your mother? How very odd.

Love your site and your sense of humor.

Posted by: Diane | January 14, 2005 01:01 PM

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