Today, Al and Carlos returned to finish up a few minor details on the large-undisclosed-amount-of-money-dog-door-project. As always, Ray was absolutely thrilled to see them. He followed Al around and helped him to open a few packages of hardware then wandered off.
After a few too many moments of silence, I went to see what Ray was up to. Ray was lying, with an innocent look on his face, in the front hallway next to the Christmas tree. I glanced around to see if the mousie was on the floor but saw nothing.
"Ray are you being a good boy?" I asked. Ray's eyebrows were doing the eyebrow dance on his forehead but he remained in place, lounging peacefully in the hallway, as if he was always good and always lounging peacefully. Al came walking up behind me.
"I can't believe he's being so good," I said to Al. "It's Christmas," replied Al in a tone of voice that implied "of course".
I realized he was right. Santa was set to arrive in ten days and Ray didn't want to jeopardize his chances of getting presents. He was going to be good. And I was going to enjoy having a good dog for ten whole days.
Ray and his good friends Al (left) and Carlos (right)
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