Christmas Dress Up…Doggy Style

So the other day I was looking for something in my Mum’s study. And I came across this somewhat disturbing artifact:


I may have laughed until I nearly threw up. But once I stopped, I gotta say, it was a bit of a shock. I knew these kind of things existed. You just never expect it to be in your family. 

But then I thought…hey…who am I to judge? Christmas time is the one time of the year where I feel strangely compelled to dress up my dog and take ridiculous photos. It is my Christmas tradition. Piss off the dog. Laugh at the photos. (Relax. No animals are harmed. Monsiour Bark-a-lot is tortured for all of 30 seconds and then given a bone for his troubles). Truth be told I’d probably dress Master D up as well if he was still young enough accept all clothes choices I didn’t give him. Hell, sometimes I even dress myself up. But hey, we won’t go into that. Back to the matter at hand. Dogs.

Sadly, the Monsiour’s traditional reindeer horns (ok. ANTLERS, as Master D always has to correct me) had gone missing. So I lent him my Christmas hat which I thought was exceedingly generous seeing as he probably has fleas, and I probably don’t.

As always, as soon as I put the hat on him he started getting all wild. The situation was not helped by both my Mum’s dogs barking at him and trying to attack him, clearly saying “What the hell, man! Red is NOT your colour!” So, all I got was this photo, where it looks like I’m the handler of some kind of rabid beast with a vaguely disproportionate tail size (Monsiour bark-a-lot would now like to inform you that his tail is both of adequate size and functionality).


So I asked again nicely. And he was all “Dude…do I HAVE to? This happens every year!”

And I was like “Seriously. Last week during a family dinner you ran away. I chased you for fifteen minutes around the street, in a dress, in full view of our neighbours who I only ever seem to converse with in passing while I am chasing you. You tried to get into someone else’s house. You peed on my neighbours letterbox. It was only when I threw my hands in the air and gave up that you finally returned. Then you barked at the front door to be let in, took a giant dump on the doorstep and ran off again. You owe me one, buddy. Big time.”

So he let me take the photo. Another happy Christmas snap.

I hate you.

I hate you.

But I didn’t stop there. A few days later at Kmart I saw a doggy elf suit for only $5. Which I thought was a bargain, because let’s face it, you can’t put a price on doggy elf suits.

I tried it on, and he actually seemed to kind of like it. He kept proudly stretching with this kind of “come hither” expression on his face. Maybe elf costumes are like the dog version of “suiting up”. So I managed to get this photo of him, which, if you could see under his killer eyebrows, you would notice him staring serenely into middle distance.


Of course I did find him later trying to maul the costume in a particularly vicious manner. So who knows what dogs think.

Happy Holidays from the slightly eccentric Finding My Sunshine family!