Before you read this… for anyone who may not know… my first name is Victoria. My dad, ever the wag, named me not for HMTQ but in honor of the train depot in central London. That’s another story…
Dog: What that
Cat: What?
Dog: That… that… that
Cat: The Christmas tree? It’s an abomination.
Dog: Doesn’t taste good
Cat: You don’t eat it, ding-dong.
Dog: Why it there
Cat: Some say it was sourced by pagan rituals, others attribute it to Prince Albert bringing the tradition to Britain after he married Victoria.
Dog, eyes bugging out: She’s married to a man? Does Beloved know about this
Cat, smacking forehead: Oh, good god. Queen Victoria.
Dog, shocked out of her mind: MOMMY’S A QUEEN
Cat: Seriously the shelter would be better than this nuthouse.
Dog: Since she’s my mommy, I’m a princess I want my crown And a butler And my own personal puppy walker who will never, ever dream of using that Halti thing I shall be worshipped
And so it goes in our household. Wishing you the happiest of holidays, whatever that might be, and may we all have a wonderful new year.
Examining Misadventures 