Tanks Tail – A Christmas Message

I am all about Christmas movies right now. I adore the narrative of A Christmas Story. I thought I would try to write a story from Tank as though it was written by Gene Sheppard. Try to imagine his voice as you read this. 😊

The True Meaning of Christmas: From Tank’s Perspective

Ah, Christmas. That shimmering, tinselly season of goodwill toward men—and confusion toward dogs. My name’s Tank, the four-legged narrator of this festive folly, here to give you the unvarnished, slobbery truth about the holiday season. Spoiler alert: it’s equal parts chaos, crumbs, and the faint whiff of something meaningful buried beneath.

Let’s Start With the Tree

It all begins with the tree. One crisp December evening, my humans haul in what appears to be the outside—inside. A magnificent pine, glorious and proud, plopped smack in the middle of the living room. Naturally, I think, “Ah, a bathroom upgrade. How thoughtful!” But just as I lift my leg in gratitude, the shrill cry of “No, Tank! No!” echoes through the halls.

Instead of fulfilling its obvious purpose, this tree is adorned with shiny balls I’m forbidden to chew, strands of twinkling lights that buzz like trouble, and ribbons practically begging to be unraveled. It’s baffling. But as I lay beneath its glowing branches (totally ignoring the “no dogs near the tree” rule), I start to wonder if it’s about more than decoration. Maybe, just maybe, it’s about gathering around something wondrous, even if its purpose isn’t immediately clear—like the time I sprawled on the fancy couch, earning side-eyes but soaking in the family’s warmth.

The Gift Situation

Ah, presents. Humans get all giddy over boxes wrapped in crinkly paper, tied with bows, only to shred them moments later. Do you know how agonizing it is to watch this spectacle when I could have obliterated that wrapping paper for free? But here’s the kicker: it’s not about what’s in the boxes. Nope.

It’s the moment. The pure, tail-wagging joy when someone unwraps the unexpected. Like the time I left a “surprise” mouse on the doorstep. Sure, they screamed. Sure, it was awkward. But deep down, I know they appreciated the gesture.

The Food Dilemma

Oh, the smells. Turkey, ham, cookies… a veritable buffet wafts through the house. My nose twitches. My tail thumps. And then—tragedy. A single, dry dog biscuit is placed before me, followed by the soul-crushing words: “Be good, Tank.”

Good? At Christmas? Impossible. But salvation comes when we visit my girl;  Ellie’s house, where Ken, my personal hero, always “accidentally” drops morsels of ham. Ken’s a true saint, I tell you. Sharing food? Now that’s the Christmas spirit.

The Chaos of Togetherness

And then there’s the family gathering—a raucous circus of humans laughing, kids racing, and yours truly dodging the indignity of a Santa hat. It’s loud, chaotic, and overwhelming. Yet, as I retreat to my fortress under the dining table, I catch sight of it: my pack, all together, despite their quirks and volume.

Christmas, I realize, isn’t about trees, presents, or even ham (though let’s not dismiss ham entirely). It’s about finding joy in the mess, love in the madness, and a spot on the couch amidst the commotion—even if someone steps on your tail.

My Message This Christmas

So, what’s the true meaning of Christmas from a dog’s perspective? It’s as simple as this:

•Mark your territory (metaphorically, of course).

•Be generous, even if it’s with a slobbery kiss or a half-chewed toy.

•Share what you have, whether it’s a napping spot or a strategically dropped snack.

•And most importantly, love your pack unconditionally, no matter how bizarre their traditions may seem.

Merry Christmas, hoomans! May your trees stay upright, your food unguarded, and your hearts full. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a strand of tinsel calling my name.

With slobbery love, 💕

Tank 🐕