Bruschi's letter to Santa- 2006

This evening, while re-organizing some files on my laptop, I came across Bruschi's letter to Santa that he/I wrote in 2006, his first Christmas. It had our friends and family in absolute laughter, and I thought I should post it on this blog.



It reminds me of just how, um, lets just a say "eventful" puppyhood was for us.



The 2007 letter is just as good, but that will come later this month.





Dear Santa,

I want pizzles. That is all I want for Christmas. I don’t want bandanas, or red socks, or pens that I can chew, or purses, shoes, coats, gloves, glasses, leashes, tissues, rugs, toe nail clippers, or ear washes. Just pizzles. This crazy lady who makes me do tricks told me that if I want something, I have to be good and ask some Santa for it.

I know, I have not been a good boy this year, but I am cute. And, cuteness should count for something. After all, the mischief that I caused gave the crazy man and lady LOTS to tell their friends about, and the stories are entertaining. I hear they get lots of mileage out of that diamond-earring-in-the-digestive-track story. Not my fault that it ended up in my mouth when I was cleaning the crazy lady’s ears. Those ears needed a cleaning! No one appreciated it when I learned to jump over the curiously shaped wall that kept me out of upstairs. They just didn’t understand how much I wanted to get into doggie paradise. I know people think that all those holes in the ground that I dug so carefully are a bad thing, but this will save those people time when they want to plant flowers. And, I guess you could say I really wasn’t supposed to uproot those hydrangea saplings. It just looked like fun at the time.

Oh, and there are some good things that I have done this year. Like, on Thanksgiving, I watched the “gobble gobble” to make sure no one would steal it. I also have alarm clock duties. Every morning, I gotta howl and whine to wake up those sleepyheads. No snooze button on me!! And, every night, before retiring to my box, I give lots of kisses. I also help the big man take naps. He does not snore when I sleep on him. Oh, one other thing, when the crazy lady needs to be entertained, I help with that. I let her play “roll the Puggle” around on the floor. She’s trying to train me not to steal food or possessions—I hear “good boy” a lot, so I guess I am making progress.

So, pizzles all for me. I really like them. And, they keep me out of trouble. In fact, I am willing to barter an evening of schenanigans for one pizzle. You can get them on the Internet… they are called PIZZLES. I hear they are made from bull weenies, but taste goooood to me!

Love, Bruschi (love you even more if you get me pizzles)

P.S.- We’ve never met before, so when you come down the chimney, look for the cute puppy with wrinkles and floppy ears. See picture below.

P.S.P.S. I look sad I this picture because I have no pizzles.









Bruschi at 8 or 9 months old. He was pretty tubby then, until we got him on a better diet.