Thanksgiving consumed my parents’ life this year and things were quite unusual around my house. Brown paper bags filled to the brim with cans of pumpkin filling, dozens of golden brown potatoes, and of course, my favorite; the juiciest, biggest, most delicious turkey you have ever seen. It’s a pure masterpiece, and by being a dog, my temptations for meat are always at a high.

But like I was saying, things have been very unusual. My parents have reduced the number of walks they take me on and, most importantly, have not shown me nearly as much attention as I need. Being a dog during the holidays can be exceptionally hard, I mean I practically have to beg for attention.

On regular days, I’m the king of the house. I wake up to a nice big bowl of turkey-glazed kibble and a heaping dish of iced water, and then I proceed to my morning routine. My day continues with two walks and cuddle time with my parents.

But, with the holidays here, my walks have been completely revoked and my cuddle time reduced by a harsh, unhealthy amount. While my parents stirred up delicious pies and Thanksgiving feast staples, I lay lonely and curled up in my bed, staring at my parents’ eyes with the most adorable “puppy dog eyes” I can muster. I practically cried to grab the attention of my parents – even for just a sweet smile, or my favorite bacon flavored dog treats. No luck.

As the Thanksgiving Day feast approached, I was quickly enlightened by the thought that after all of this preparation, I would finally receive the attention I deserved. I was also reminded that hopefully, after so much begging, my parents would nicely add some leftover Thanksgiving turkey (or even mashed potatoes with gravy!) into my morning kibble.

When the big day arrived, family members and friends piled into our house, and everyone eventually took their seats at the dinner table. Of course I made my rounds underneath the table to see what I could find. Firstly, I had to establish which person dropped the most amount of food. This would be Grandma, of course, and boy does she miss when driving that fork full of food to its intended destination. Not everything was pleasant under the table though. When I was trying to find a foot to cuddle around during the long table talk that followed the feast (and led into the late hours of the night), I discovered that Grandma really needed to wear pantyhose underneath her skirts, grandpa really needed to moisturize his legs, mom needed to clip her tail-nails and dad needed to stop his tapping foot. If only I could tell them.

Overall I am very thankful that Thanksgiving is coming to an end, because boy do I want my cuddle time and my walks back. I want to be king of the castle and – wait – I hear my name being called. “Scotch it’s time for dinner, I forgot I needed to feed you.” Finally, time for some well deserved Thanksgiving food! Instead, as I approach my bowl, all I see is the same turkey-glazed kibble. Something about me putting on the weight?