Easter morning. A time of wonder, excitement and delight.
Except in our house that one year …
Allow me to introduce you to our dear Oscar.
I chose to post this particular picture of him first because it encapsulates his personality. Perfectly.
“I’m so clever to have dug this pit right in the garden on this hot day. Not only does it keep me cool, it keeps me TOTALLY hidden.”
Uh huh. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
I could write pages on his antics but for the purposes of this post I’ll just divulge that he was full of mischief.
Why yes, that IS the extension cord for the outside Christmas lights wrapped around our dear boy’s body. No, we had nothing to do with it. We just put him outside for simply five minutes tops … and he managed to get tangled up all by his little lonesome.
You’re laughing now, aren’t you? Yes and that’s just the weensiest snippet of life with our unforgettable Oscar.
Ok. Now a little background colour to that Easter morning of 2010.
The McKenzie household is blessed at Easter time. Not only does the Easter Bunny leave two bunny trails inside the house he also leaves two outside. Some might believe there are two Easter Bunnies at work however of course one can never be sure.
As this post is about Oscar (who always slept inside) I’ll focus on the two inside bunny trails today. These trails, which consist of a few … alright dozens … ok zillions of foil wrapped chocolate eggs, meander from the foot of each of my two children’s beds. They are scattered lovingly placed at random intervals in parallel lines that float from their bedrooms, down the hall and off throughout the rest of the house. Each one ends far from where it began with the delightful totally expected surprise of a large solid chocolate bunny. Milk chocolate for my daughter and white chocolate for my son. God help me if they follow the incorrect trails and end up with the wrong bunny.
Hopping, Alright, Gobbling Down The Bunny Trail.
It’s Easter morning 2010. The sun is pouring through the blinds of my bedroom window. Huh.This is unusual. Normally by now my two would not only be already awake and have decimated the inside bunny trails but they’d be outside delightedly snatching up the eggs scattered there. I stretch and lie back on the pillow. How delightful. There’s hope. They are truly growing up.
“Happy Easter everybody!” my 14-year-old son bellows calls out from his room next to mine.
“Morning! Happy Easter!” chimes his 15-year-old sister in immediate response.
Yes. This calling out bit is certainly different. Within seconds their feet hit the ground and both come bouncing into my room.
“He came! The Easter Bunny came!” they proclaim with intentional childlike euphoria.
Well that’s more like it! Assuming they are going to zip back for the impossibly small adorable Easter baskets that always appear miraculously overnight at the foot of their beds, I whip back my duvet.
“Hey, let’s just savour this for a bit Mom. The best is yet to come.”
Both of them fall into my bed and pull up the duvet. What? Why aren’t they hopping, alright, gobbling down the bunny trail? Did the Easter Bunny swap my children with adults? Good heavens this is quite different from normal. I’ll take it though. What a concept; staying in bed, my feet toasty and warm. Pure heaven on Easter morning.
“Hey Mom. Do you remember Oscar’s first Easter and that note we left for the Easter Bunny?” my son pipes up.
How could I not? It was a treasure.
” Dear Easter Bunny, Please don’t be scared if you hear barking. We have a new puppy. He might bark at you...”
The funny thing is Oscar didn’t. In fact he barked so rarely, we had a running tally of the times he barked. It didn’t reach 30.
As we share a quiet laugh over the memory of the note I decide to not tell them I kept it; they’ll want to SEE IT RIGHT NOW! Later. I’ll tell them later.
“Hard to believe that was 10 years ago.”
In some ways it is but in many ways it isn’t. Our dear lad’s appearance for one. The fur around his eyes and snout are getting really rather white.
And yes, the fact that we are all lying in bed and not hopping, alright, gobbling down the bunny trail is a sharp reminder as well.
Perhaps I’m not alone in thinking this. The room falls silent.
Then I hear a little something. Out in the hall? No. Can’t be. We are all here tucked up cozy and warm.
Squeeeeeek… snuffle…
“Hey did you guys here that?” pipes up my ever vigilant, always on top of things daughter in perfect timing with her brother’s paralytic “SSHHHHHH!”
Squeekkkk … snuffle … crunchhhh … squeekkkk … snuffle … snuffle … crunccchhhh … crunccchhh … What the? Oscar? NO! It can’t be! This is his tenth Easter. He knows the rules. And he’s shut safely away in the kitchen. Surely.
Without one word the three of us tumble out of bed and race for the hallway. The two neatly aligned trails are non-existent. Instead of 50 eggs there are but ten scattered about the whole the length of the hall. The previously shut kitchen door is ajar. How? We dash into the living room. Oh my. Only the armchairs offer up chocolate eggs. Slimy, crinkly shiny remnants of foil litter the carpet. The hardwood floor is randomly spotted with wettish globular blobs of light brown drool. A dining room chair, as my mother would charmingly say, is lying ass over tea kettle. In short, the room is far from how the Easter Bunny surely left it last night. The creator of this purely angelic Easter vision? He’s curled up by the dining room table the picture of innocence; his audible burp surprising only himself. Yes. Golden boy Oscar. He’s had a merry time hopping,alright, gobbling down the bunny trail. At least 45 chocolate eggs are toast. Foil wrappers and all.
Need you worry about the amount of chocolate foiled eggs left for my two? Nope. Thanks to the closed door at the top of the stairs the two bunny trails (and the two solid chocolate bunnies also) are still preserved safely in the basement. And there’s a wealth of eggs yet to be discovered outside.
Should you be worried about the amount of chocolate our dog has consumed? Absolutely not. He’s raided my darlings’ Hallowe’en loot more times than we can count with no ill effects whatsoever.
***
Not quite my boy. Any attempt to have me forget your debauched behaviour is bound to be foiled. Without going into too much detail let me just say you’ll leave constant reminders of your Easter morning feast out on our walks for the next few days at least…
Enough about Oscar and his hopping, alright, gobbling down the bunny trail. I’m curious about you. Have you ever experienced such an Easter morning delight? Or does your Easter Bunny trail remain perfectly unfoiled? Is your pet the perfect angel or do you also have or know a devil like our golden boy? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
19 Responses
Kelly, I started to laugh at the title, I could imagine what was coming ! Having had dogs for most of my life, this is so familiar ! Our dog Misty was the queen of the food thief’s, although, she never did manage the Easter chocolates. She more than made up for it at Valentines Day ( eating all the foil wrapped hearts carefully attached to the cards, on the counter), and at Christmas, eating a number of chocolate oranges, and a yard long box of chocolates. Her best one was carefully unrolling , and devouring a sealed can of sardines !!
Jane I literally laughed OUT LOUD when I read this. So funny. She was the queen of the food thieves. A Purdy’s yard long? Oh my word. I can also picture her gently tugging the Valentine’s chocolates off of the cards all the while keeping a watchful eye out for any observers. However the sealed can of sardines is truly the corker. It takes the cake. Seriously. I struggle doing it with fingers! Thank you thank you for sharing.
Kelly as usual hilarious, Oscar you cheeky boy.
Yes Karen he was beyond cheeky. Marley had NOTHING on him. Truly.
Aw….sweet boy…you just gotta love um! We had a sweet boy…a wire fox terrier named Mowgli…who left us all too soon. He loved coffee….you did not dare leave a cup unattended for even a second. He would have his whole face submerged in your cup within a second! I sure do miss that boy……
Smiling widely here Debbie. Did he drink the coffee? Or just love the smell?
He actually seemed to enjoy the taste of the coffee……he would drink your cup dry!
Seriously?!? Well that’s a first for me. Truly. What a little caffeine hound … did he get jumpy afterwards?
Ya know….I never really noticed a change, but I usually caught him before he finished the cup! He was such a special boy. We lost him way to young (8yrs) to unexpected kidney failure. His passing was really hard on me, but I can look back now and smile at the memories.
Oh he sounds like a little poppet Debbie. Such a good fellow. Yes, 8 years is far too young. We lost our “first born” (Fergus – black lab) at 8 and it was heartwrenching. Time and distance are very kind though – you’re right. I’ll raise my next cup of coffee to your lad.
Yes, you gotta love em! they bring more joy than destruction than anything else. Oscar is one of a kind!
I found our three year old Ziggy under the bed this week with an entire pack of cards, which he’d somehow gotten out of the box they were in. I need to start keeping a camera close by because that was priceless. I have to admit, I forgot to look to see if he had a good hand. He knows it is wrong or he wouldn’t hide – he just can’t help himself sometimes!
Hahaha – love that you forgot to look to see if he had a good hand. So funny. He took the entire pack with him and hid under the bed? You do need to start keeping a camera close by. Oh how I could have worn out my phone back in the day with Oscar. He was always up to something. Oscar was the same as Ziggy – he always knew when he’d done something wrong. He’d always zoom for his bed and assume the picture of innocense. “What?” One instance that comes to mind was his trick of bumping the fridge, knocking the loaf of bread off from the top and then chowing down on the entire thing. He’d nibble around the bag and leave it lying empty by the fridge. Then he’d hop on his bed and curl up like perfect boy. Give Ziggy a hug from me. He sounds like a gem.
Oh, dear. Glad he didn’t get sick, but I’m guessing your yard was, uhm, colorful for a few days. Aren’t they wonderful? Even when they’re rascals.
Very true Linda. They are wonderful – even when they are rascals. However – the perspective does favour them more as time gets farther away from the event, no?
Ahhh, Oscar- he sure knew how to help create a funny memory for you and your family! Pets have a tendency of doing that! 😉
He created ever so many “funny” momemts Amy. Family and friends miss him dearly.
Oh, Kelly! You and your family are SO lucky that Oscar wasn’t reactive to chocolate! The rule of thumb is to never feed chocolate to any dog because it can kill them. But some dogs seem to eat chocolate with no consequences. As I read your story, I was at the edge of my seat, waiting for the inevitable holiday trip to the vet to induce vomiting. But instead, you had the vision of a curled up pup drooling chocolately drool. I am so, so grateful that he was okay!
PS Gloria likes to lick up coffee. With cream. 😉
I have heard that dogs mustn’t eat chocolate and it puzzles me Harmony. Every dog I’ve had the pleasure of sharing my life with has had chocolate at least once to no ill affect. Is it a case of smaller dogs being more susceptible? I don’t know. My children have had three dogs – Fergus the black lab, Oscar the golden and now Poppy. All three have gotten into their Hallowe’en stashes and Easter baskets and been, yes VERY thankfully, ok. Dear Oscar was the chocoholic. No matter where my two hid theirs he’d always find it. I’ll have to tell you about the time he consumed my son’s basketball sized papier mache science project some time.
Gloria is the second pup I’ve learned about that loves coffee. So funny. None of my dogs have been caffeine connoissoeurs.