Putting a Damper on Thanksgiving

I have never understood holidays. The concept of putting a large group of family members together in one place for hours has always led to arguments, tears, swearing and loud slamming of doors and cabinets. I am often told how smart I am, but I guess I’m not intelligent enough to see the significance of such a gathering. I’ve heard my mom say, “We don’t choose our family, but we do have to put up with them,” or my dad say, “Next year, we go on a vacation instead of catering to these people.” Yet, every Thanksgiving, the same group enters our home and in no time, I’m wandering around stressed and nervous at the activities unfolding.

This year, it will be different. I’ve decided to lay low. If anyone wants to start an argument, I will find a way not to be affected. I love my parents very much, so I think if they stay calm, I will too. As aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins start filtering into our home, I look up to greet them and then walk away to be less of a participant and more of a spectator. After all, my life is ideal most other days, and generally, I vie to be the center of attention. I don’t think I’ve ever had a day where Mom and Dad have not told me how good I’m being or how much they love me. Affection is infectious in our home…except for holidays. Less hugs replaced by twisted faces, frowning, loud voices and tears.

Today is no different, except for my insistence on keeping out of it. Currently, I am sitting in the family room but can see my mom in the kitchen. Her arms are waving about and I hear her shout, “I have made the stuffing this way every year, so if you think you can do better, dear brother, then do it!” The spoon goes flying out of her hand, clanking on the kitchen tile like a cymbal and remnants of stuffing stick to the floor. I run in to help, but Mom tells me to clear way of the mess. I admit that I tasted the yummy stuffing before being banished and, added dirt or not, it was worth it.

As I meander back to the family room, I think I shouldn’t make eye contact with anyone so I can fly under the radar of tension, but it’s not like me to ignore anyone. I look up at Grandma and Grandpa as they go help Mom. Grandpa looks down at me and smiles. He lightly taps me on the head and tells me he heard I’ve been getting along better with Archie next door. I let him know I appreciate his comment as he continues on his way towards the craziness.

I see Uncle Lloyd sitting on the couch and my head immediately lowers. He never has been a warm person, and I sense his distaste. For some reason, I keep thinking he is going to want to engage with me, but my disappointment always follows as quickly as my hopes arise. Uncle Lloyd usually walks by me without even acknowledging my presence, but since he is sitting in the room I’ve entered and gives no indication he wants to exit, he instead gives me a sideways glance and a small upturned sneer of his mouth, immediately making the hair on the back of my neck stand in apprehension. This room is no place to lie low.

While I continue to stay out of trouble, I am feeling restless. I need to stretch my legs so I walk back into the kitchen, but everyone just immediately thinks I’m in the way. Mom’s tension is rising as she takes a sip of wine and watches Aunt Jackie get defensive about something cousin Michael says. I see my mother roll her eyes as Aunt Jackie storms out of the room, crying and yelling something about how therapy is not a waste of time. Michael is laughing and says, “I can’t help it if she’s so sensitive,” while Grandma swats him with a kitchen towel. I feel bad for Aunt Jackie so I try to follow her, but she cries out, “Not now,” so as usual on holidays, I get pushed aside again.

I walk slowly back into the kitchen, head hanging low at the rejection and I look up to see Mom’s gaze fixated on me with a sympathetic smile. She tells me I’m lucky to not understand all the “big people” issues, but she doesn’t seem to realize just how much I do comprehend. It’s a bright, sunny day so she encourages me to go outside in the yard with all the younger cousins. She opens the sliding glass doors and I hop out in a new found excitement and hope, for she knows how much I love being outside.

As I peruse the environment for where to run off to first, I quickly note that this may not be much better than what’s going on inside. I still give it a fair chance. There is an active game of hide ‘n’ seek going on and since Ruby and Jake are fighting over one of the swings because, “it’s the best one,” I decide to join in with those playing the game. I can see Johnny is pretending to cover his eyes while he is counting but is really peeking ever so slightly to where everyone is running to hide. Lucy has always been one of my favorite cousins with a soft, sweet voice and who gives the best hugs (we stand almost eye to eye). I run in her direction, but I am instantly disappointed to be shooed away yet again. Lucy tells me to get away with a horrified look on her face, because Johnny is almost done counting and I will surely give away her hiding spot.

Feeling unwanted yet again, I realize my hopes of getting through this holiday without drama are dwindling away. I feel myself getting agitated and cranky; like I don’t even want to be around anyone for the rest of the day. Aunt Patty is sitting on the deck and is clearly annoyed with me because she has to look up from her phone to open the door so I can go back inside. I feel as though I’m a nuisance no matter what I do.

After dinner, everyone is “relaxing” in the family room. I can’t say it’s peaceful since there is no less tension than earlier in the day. Some are drinking coffee and some are having sweets. I’m not trying for anything, because I just want to be left alone at this point. I try to close my eyes a bit to escape the atmosphere. Just as the voices around me seem to be fading and I feel myself drifting off, I hear a loud bang on the table. My eyes spring open and I hear Mom’s voice getting louder and higher, a certain crack in it that only happens when she's really upset. Dad is snarling at Uncle Jim as he points to the door and demands he leave the house. Uncle Jim bolts up from the couch and walks up so closely to Dad that their noses are touching. He calls Dad a fool to defend such a dim-witted woman like Mom and says he pities them and their slum of a house. Dad pushes Uncle Jim who stumbles backwards and falls on the floor, swearing and muttering to himself.

I have decided I’ve had enough! I took no naps today, barely had any dinner and most everyone here has either ignored me or pushed me away. Uncle Jim stands back up and says this is the last Thanksgiving he will ever attend here. I want to make sure this is the last time he ever comes back, so I get up, walk over to him, lift my leg and pee on his shoes. Almost everyone laughs and as Uncle Jim goes to swat at me, Dad grabs his arm and escorts him out the front door, slamming it for dramatic effect. I am not sure if I am about to be scolded since this is not something I’ve done since I was a puppy, but I have no reason to worry.

The remaining family members are approaching me all at once now. I’m getting pats on the head, scratches on my back and Grandpa is laughing with that hearty cackle of his and says, “Good Jasper,” while everyone else breaks out into applause. The sea of people parts and there’s Mom, tears coming down her cheeks but with a huge smile on her face. She bends down, gives me a huge hug and scratches under my collar (my very favorite). I lick her tears and let her know I’m here for her. Mom whispers in my ear how much she loves me and then leads me into the kitchen. I begin to drool as she scoops turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes with gravy into my dish. My tail is wagging harder than ever before as I scoff down my food. All these years, I thought relieving myself in the house was not permitted, but tonight I was made a hero for it. All this time I dreaded holidays. Now, I can’t wait for Christmas…especially the tree!