Merry Christmas, everyone!

Happy Luzzi here. I guess this is the seventh time I've written the Christmas letter for my family. I was a mere pup when I began, but now I'm an old dog. The mom says that now I have an AARF card. I don't know what this means, but apparently there are "benefits." If I get caught and sent to the pound, she can call this legal service, staffed by poodles I figure, to get me out. Poodles may be fussy, but you want someone with a good haircut representing you in those situations.

You know what they say about old dogs, but it's just not true. I've learned a few new tricks this year, and refined a few old ones. It's all a matter of training. You have to be totally consistent with your family, or they won't learn how to respond to your requests.

Case in point: They used to put this thing on me called a "bark collar." Now, you and I know that the point of this device is to reward a dog for barking. I kind of got a little kick out of getting a few volts when I woofed it up in the backyard. I figured out that if you can get over the first few shocks, the device shuts off entirely. I suppose this is so that a trusty canine can protect the family from burglars and vermin and such. But I just made a game of it. I found that I could make lots of friends. When the family went on vacation, after I got the device to shut off, several neighbors came to visit me: Bob, Shari, Jake, Ken, Martha…and people I didn't even know were shouting my name all night!

My family went to California a bunch when it was hot out, and again for what they call "Turkey Day." Why would anyone name a day after a stupid bird? They also went to Montana and a place called "Yellowstone." I've heard of Yellowsnow, but I don't understand Yellowstone. The mom went twice to Maui. Her brother asked her to housesit, and she wanted to be alone to get some writing done. I volunteered to go with her, but she left me alone with the dad and the brother. They weren't home very much, though. It was so boring. The best part of the summer was when my boy, who lives in a colorful place called "Redmond," came by to take me to the park a few times. I love him! But he doesn't bring any girls home, and come to think of it, neither does the brother. I miss all their old girlfriends who used to talk to me in baby voices and say I was sooo cute!

For six years, the mom and I wrote the Family Life column in the King County Journal, but in the first month of the year, they shut 'er down. Don't tell anybody, but she was really sad about losing her job and her favorite newspaper. I think she's still in shock. The weather hasn't helped. It's rained for the last year, almost without stopping, I think. I met a girl Beagle the other day when I escaped, and she asked me to go with her on a big boat called an Ark. I told her that I wasn't much of a stud anymore, but she was soooo cute. Anyway, the mom was asked to start "blogging" for the Seattle PI. I wonder if it's anything like jogging. One can only hope.

The dad is the hero of our house. He gets up every morning when it's still dark, goes to a place called "Bellevue," and brings home money. "Same place for 27 years!" he says. To get more money, and for fun too, he hangs this noisy, shiny, black and white box on his shoulders, squeezes it, and out comes music! He takes it in his car a lot, and when he comes home, he's exhausted, but really happy.

The mom and dad have a friend named Jesus. I don't ever see him, but I guess he's here all the time, 'cause I hear them talking to him. The mom makes all kinds of yummy treats for his birthday, but he never eats. I'm just glad she's a messy cook, so I can sample everything! I hope Jesus is at your house, too, so you can talk to him. I know that he has helped us get through a stormy year.

Love,
Happy Luzzi