Begging for Biscuits

HUMOR Our giant dog just couldn’t find the fun in Halloween.

sea of cherub-faced princesses, ghosts and goblins raised jack-o’-lanterns and shouted “trick or treat!” We sat waiting for them outside. Marley, our komondor dog, was beside us, wagging his tail incessantly.

He loved little people. Despite his imposing size, most of them felt likewise. Often Marley found himself surrounded by neighbor children, their faces buried in his clumpy dreadlocks.

But that night, after the third or fourth Halloween salutation, Marley grew agitated. He watched anxiously, whimpering, as candy clunked into buckets and bags.

My husband and I didn’t know what to make of it. The whining got

Aworse, and eventually Marley crammed his huge head into a bag looking for treats. We replaced the candy, of course, and reprimanded him for his outburst. Marley simply plopped to the ground. “Maybe we should put him in the house,” I suggested.

“Let’s give him another chance,” my husband answered.

“Trick or treat!” a child cried, his feet crunching and crackling over the carpet of red, yellow, orange and brown leaves.

Marley sat up straight and tall. His eyebrows moved up and down and his enormous pink tongue remained frozen. Marley’s eyes shifted from us to the child until we dropped the candy into the bag. He pawed the sack. He was looking for something.

“I know what the problem is,” my husband said finally. “Trick or treat.” I didn’t get it, so he repeated the phrase, with the emphasis on treat. Then it hit me. Marley connected the word with doggy biscuits. He must have felt it was a cruel prank, hearing that word over and over and watching kids run off with his booty.

I went inside, grabbed some biscuits and gave them to Marley. Outside, skeletons and pirates paraded across the yard, yelling the magic phrase.

We couldn’t just train Marley to forget the word treat.

So every October, our former Halloween helper spends the night inside, waiting, like Scrooge at Christmas, for this unjust holiday to pass.