What to get a retriever who has everything

NOW THAT CHRISTMAS IS almost here, most normal people are at the stage where they are in panic mode because they have not completed their Christmas shopping.

Well, this year, for the first time, I am proud to admit I’m one of the abnormal ones.

Strangely enough, when I declared this to Jenn, she agreed and then added, “But at least you’ve got all your Christmas shopping done.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was not quite true. There is still one member of the family that I have not bought a gift for yet: our Labrador retriever, Millie. She’s difficult to buy for. For one thing, she has everything a retriever could ask for. She’s has a selection of couches to sleep on, shiny food and water bowls, a variety of “indestructible” toys to destroy and two cats to

chase.

Clearly, she has everything a retriever could ask for. Except, that is, the one thing she can’t have – a mallard duck of her own.

Let’s be clear. I’m not the one raining on her parade. I won’t name names but there is a certain someone in our household (rhymes with pen) who has a strict “no live mallards in the house” policy.

Restrictive? Tell me about it.

Quite frankly, I think it is unfair. Retrieving mallards and other ducks is what retrievers dream of. It’s what they wish they were doing when they are not eating your socks, barking at snowplows or stealing cake from the counter.

I would go so far as to say duck wrangling is part of their higher education. With that in mind, would you refuse to buy books for your children?

The answer is no, of course.

Admittedly, books don’t leave droppings on the floor, beg for bread, live in the bathtub, respond loudly every time you blow into a duck call or attempt to migrate south through the front window.

Maybe so, but I happen to think all that’s a small price to pay for having a well-rounded retriever.

You’d think that the person I’m speaking of (starts with J) would see that we could make one Labrador retriever very happy if she could retrieve and then open her present on Christmas morning. It’s not like we use the bathtub a lot.

I have even made concessions. My initial idea was to buy Millie a whole flock.

Still, someone in this house (in case you haven’t yet guessed, it’s Jenn) refuses to allow it.

As a result, I am going to have to think of some other gift for Millie.

I could buy her another collar but that’s the canine equivalent of buying your dad a neck tie, which is not exactly exciting. And, if I bought her a pack of sow’s ears she would immediately know that I hadn’t put much thought into it. (Who says, “I know the perfect gift, sow’s ears?”)

Worse still, she’d probably feel obliged to share.

No, a live mallard drake really would have been the perfect gift for Millie. But Jenn probably has a valid reason – though I can’t think of it at the moment – for not wanting a mallard duck in the house. So I will respect that. I wonder if a goose would do?