Both dogs are leashed and tied to the leg of the coffee table in the family room. The pumpkins are lit and balanced like severed heads on the front porch railing. We are just waiting for tick or treaters to set the dogs off and cause bedlam in the house – the coffee table can expect a workout.
We have shared our lives with several dogs over the years – purebreds, mutts, small and giant ones – none of them enjoyed Halloween. Our dogs have been genuinely good natured beasts, all of them, but on All Hallows’ Eve they have all been decidedly poor sports.
To be fair I’m not a big fan of The Halloween anymore either. I used to love it, back in the day. I loved to get dressed up and parade behind our children as they went trick or treating through the neighborhood – but those days have been history for a long time. I’m now in charge of answering the door to other people’s children and pretending I’m the happy old grandmother on the street while trying to shush the dogs and keep an ear on the baseball game on TV. It’s too much multitasking for this old girl.
My daughter lives in a densely populated neighborhood – she is prepared for hundreds of trick or treaters. She has called in reinforcements to man the door. Her children will go out with their friends, and a slew of parents, and line up at front doors up and down their street. It’s like Black Friday bedlam in a small town Walmart. It actually makes headlines in the neighborhood newspaper.
We may get six visitors at our door – any kid with any gumption has talked their parents into driving them to my daughter’s neighborhood where houses are lined up like teeth on a Jack-o-lantern and decorated in spooktacular fashion. My dogs will announce the arrival of the goblins before the doorbell rings. I will dash up the stairs from the family room and plaster a fake smile on my face before I open the door. Good times, good times.
We started handing out the ‘big kind’ of chocolate bars as the neighborhood children grew up and our customers dwindled. It’s a fun surprise for the costumed few who brave the barking dogs and the quiet street. I have a feeling several of our trick or treaters just stop at our place before heading up to greener pastures.
Unfortunately dogs can’t count – the dogs in my daughter’s neighborhood will put the same energy into announcing their hundreds of visitors as ours do with our paltry few. It will be a short evening for the beasts tied to my coffee table. For the poor animals in my daughter’s neck of the woods it will be a long night – they could well be a little horse by the end of it, which on The Halloween may go completely unnoticed.