I don't know about you, but it's been quite a week around our house. If you missed it, this was Thanksgiving week where we live. A lot of build-up takes place at the beginning of the week heading towards Thursday - the big day, Turkey Day, Thanksgiving Day. The humans in my life are supposed to spend some time thinking about all their blessings and give thanks, while stuffing their faces with all sorts of delectable foods that they say aren't for dogs. I was foolish enough to think I'd be one of those things for which my humans were thankful, but after I kicked off the day chewing on a pencil I found in Big Brother's room, splintering that thing into about 100 pieces and worrying Mom to death about whether or not it was toxic and how many splinters I might have swallowed, Mom shouted, "I can't even say I'm thankful for you right now!"
A dose of peroxide to induce vomiting and three good pukes later, I had a long ride ahead of me to Uncle Dan's house on a very empty stomach to think about all of it. Mom and Dad were talking about the phenomenon of Friendsgiving - basically celebrating Thanksgiving with friends and insisting on calling it something other than Thanksgiving. It seems like it's all the rage all of a sudden, just like Galentine's Day. Why it still can't be called Thanksgiving is beyond all of us, much like how we wonder why you can't still love your gal pals on Valentine's Day without calling it something else.
But that got me to thinking of all the different variations for this uniquely human holiday. Dadsgiving - only Dads allowed. Siblingsgiving - when your parents can't make it. Truckersgiving - every truck stop restaurant from Turkey Week Wednesday through Black Friday. Kidsgiving - hot dogs, pizza, and mac and cheese served at card tables where the under 16 crowd sits on a hodge podge of mismatched chairs. And my favorite, Petsgiving - no humans allowed; licking, sniffing, and scratching encouraged. Pets everywhere would be energized by this holiday!
If I hosted Petsgiving, would you come? Of course you wouldn't! You're not a pet. You wouldn't even be invited! How's that feel? Not great, I know, but that's how your pets feel about Thanksgiving. Even if we get invited, we're cordoned off to the pet area so we can't disrupt the humans' precious feeding frenzy. At Petsgiving, we won't have to worry about that.
All varieties of pet food would be available all over the floor for all varieties of pets - dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, hamsters, turtles, reptiles, chickens, goats, birds, and all the rest. We'll even be a safe place for turkeys during the 4th week of November! I'll invite my only known pet relative, my Uncle Bailey. Those of us who like to sniff butts will gather in the den, while the reptiles will lounge about in the sunroom. The litter box area will be open to anyone who needs to potty and may not be able to push open the doggy door to get outside. I might even be convinced to let the squirrels in, especially if they were amenable to bringing the snacks - acorns, chestnuts, and the like - and bringing in some sticks especially for me. After homemade fake dog ice cream for dessert, courtesy of Mom, and a good nap for the snoozers in the crowd, we'll all rally for a game of ultimate fetch - the birds can be responsible for getting the ball as far away from the starting line as possible, and us dogs will show the rest of the pets how it's done.
When the day is over, we'll be grateful for the opportunity to gather, just us pets, enjoying all the things we love in the company of our friends and, in the case of sibling or cousin pets, family. We'll say, "How blessed we are to be together." We'll overlook the mess the chickens made trying to peck the kitty litter before someone helped them break the code on that, and we'll forgive the turtle for his abysmal showing in the ultimate fetch game, and we'll pretend the goats didn't hit the cider too hard and eat Mom's favorite TV watching blankie.
We'll wonder, "This time next year, will we all still be able to gather? Who among us will have moved on?" Just thinking like that will make us even more thankful for the day. We'll rub noses; sniff butts; and wuff, baaa, cluck, and meow our way out the door, understanding better why our humans do it every year. We'll leave with the wisdom that comes from knowing you can call it whatever you want, as long as you make the effort to spend time with your crowd, soaking up the good and the not-so-good that inevitably comes with those types of gatherings, and give thanks for everything it was this year, savoring the memories til next time.
Until next year, Happy Whateversgiving to you!
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