Tink, Tuck, a Trick and a Treat

It was supposed to be my chihuahua Tinkerbelle’s costume.

A pretty tutu it was, bought second hand from the rescue group for Tink’s very first Halloween.

But Tink was terrified and absolutely refused to wear it.

Sometime on Halloween night my terrier Tucker found that tutu on the dining room table, and thinking it was some kind of a tasty treat pulled it right down on the rug.

Once I turned on the lights in the morning, I jumped.

I saw Tuck had learned a very spooky new trick.

Somehow he’d managed to get the tutu up on his head just like a crown.

Now Tuck’s a senior and has never been fond of Halloween. Typically he’d hide under the couch shaking his fears away until the last of the door knocking ghosts and goblins were gone.

But I guess you can always change, no matter if you’re young or old.

And looking at Tuck’s face I believe that my old boy is mighty proud of himself, just as he should be.

My Little Pumpkin Eater

Since it’s Halloween this week I thought little Miss Tinkerbelle would want to dress up.

After all, she missed last year’s party as she hadn’t even been born yet.

I’d picked up a gently used purple and green tutu that matched her collar perfectly at the shelter where I’d adopted her a few months back.

But as soon as I grabbed the tutu to place it around Tinkerbelle’s little belly, Tinkerbelle started screaming in terror.

I tried to be gentle, but sequins were flying faster than fairy dust as she leapt up into thin air.

I quickly ran into the kitchen to grab her a little treat to calm her back down.

But when I returned Tinkerbelle was already busy again on the loveseat showing me her newest trick.

It appeared to be some fancy form of pumpkin wrestling.

And she’d already chewed off part of the stem.

With some effort, I retrieved the poor, now pock faced Jack-O-Lantern.

Not feeling particularly festive I then told my pup, “You’re no Tinkerbelle!”

“In fact, you’re a nut.”

I smiled as I remembered my girl came to the midwest from Fresno, CA, where
one of the country’s most beloved nut varieties are grown.

“Hey Tink, I’m thinking I should re-name you Pistachio.”

I detected a tiny growl.

Maybe I’ll try a little turkey costume instead for Thanksgiving next month.

But if I do, we’ll definitely be skipping the homemade pumpkin pie.

Masquerade moments

Halloween’s never been my favorite holiday.

Maybe because I alway eat too much chocolate.

And because it’s always seems to be raining.

Unless of course it’s snowing.

Or even worse, a blizzard!

But I thought this year I’d try really hard to like Halloween since my very sweet granddaughter was coming for an overnight.

The two of us were going on an old fashioned trolley car ride the next morning where we’d be read to by well known children’s author Nancy Carlson while wearing our costumes.

I decided to pick up dollar store orange flaming bright hair Saturday as a back up in case my granddaughter forgot her costume.

Catching up with friends later for lunch, I suddenly spotted a spark of creativity right before my eyes.

And soon I discovered I might actually be on fire with enthusiasm for this zombie loving holiday like I’d never been before.

I’d found myself a treat which translated to 95 percent off the price of detailed masquerades in all colors and styles.

Including one bejeweled in a brilliant orange to match my granddaughter’s orange hair.

Handing over my tired dollar to the clerk, I quickly handed her a fresh second bill to buy a masquerade in black just for me.

As my fashionably attired granddaughter and I took our wicker seats on the trolley Sunday, I proudly smiled beneath my stunning and ornate black masquerade.

But then I abruptly removed it.

I wanted my granddaughter, conductor, and the author to see I wasn’t hiding anything.

In fact, I wanted them to know that I may just like Halloween after all!


Toto too?

Tuck, the terrier, has never been a fan of Halloween.

All that door knocking makes him cranky.

And he’s never been impressed with the tricks he’s observed.

Tuck’s also noticed two legged animals receive far more treats than the four legged ones.

At least at my house.

So Tuck was oozing attitude last night when a group of Ninjas, witches, and a gingham clad Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz landed on my doorstep.

Tuck announced their arrival in a less than hospitable tone.

I scooped him up in my left arm, grabbed little candy filled bags in my right, and then opened the door.

“Sweet! You’re giving out dapper doggies instead of Kit Kat bars!” the 7-year old Dorothy blurted out to her friends.

With that proclamation, Tuck leapt from my hold and ran to hide below the coffee table.

“Well, not exactly,” I replied. “The Yorkie stays here, but how about I throw in a ‘York-ee’ Peppermint Patty with the Kit Kat bar?”

The little braided brunette smiled up at me brightly.

“Oh, and feel free to come over anytime to play with the dogs,” I added.

“Toto too?” she inquired.

I looked at Tuck.

He slowly crawled back out to sniff her hand.

Tuck proceeded to give it a lick.

And then I detected his nod of approval.

“Oh yes, Toto too!”

Content, sweet Dorothy turned and skipped happily all the way down the sidewalk with her new chocolates.

And Tuck returned back up to his old post, awaiting the next knock.