Until I grab the the dog and we hide away together in the cold downstairs rec-room with a bottle of champagne and a rawhide chew while everybody talks too loud at the same time upstairs. I kiss the dog's soft head, press my heated forehead to the cold windowpane, watch the moon, and am grateful for this beautiful beautiful world. Merry Christmas
I was at a party once, and had to rub the ears off the family dog. That dog knew I needed company.
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