I’ve been meaning to tell you about the celebrations in our family for a long time. There are so many photos and videos of our special days that you could watch them forever. But I never quite knew where to begin.
And then this morning, as I was walking my owner along the seashore.
We stopped again and again, staring at the sun rising over the water — and suddenly, the title for this story came to me. Everything just fell into place.
So, let’s talk about celebrations.
People say that in Russia, where my owners are from, there are more holidays than in most countries. And judging by how things go here on our island, they brought that tradition with them.
What’s the first thing people think of before a holiday?
Some — about stocking up on alcohol, of course. But most — about flowers.
For example, just across the channel from our island is France. There, May 1st has been associated with flowers for centuries. It’s also the only one of France’s 11 official holidays that is legally a non-working day. On that day, the whole country is covered in lilies of the valley.
When my lady owner looks at photos of flower shops in France on May 1st, she says she’d just lie down in front of the counters, covered in lilies of the valley, and never leave. Those are her favourite flowers. She was born in May and tried to grow them in our garden for years — and only here on the island did she finally succeed.
In Russia, holidays are also tightly connected to flowers. For example, on March 8th, International Women’s Day, no woman goes without a bouquet. Usually tulips or mimosa. It’s a tradition: even a small bunch, but for every woman. My owner brought this tradition to England — every year, he gave flowers to the women at work. He even planted a mimosa tree in our garden.
He loves to remember one particular year when a young English woman of about 27 had just joined the company. On March 8th, he congratulated the women and handed each a bouquet. When he got to her, she took the flowers — and burst into tears. Everyone was shocked.
“These are the first flowers anyone has ever given me,” she whispered.
In Russia, even little boys in kindergarten give flowers to girls and their teachers!
Why am I telling you all this? Because in our house, there are flowers everywhere every day.
And of course, on May 19th — my lady owner’s birthday — the house practically swims in roses. Every year, my owner starts the day by giving her red roses, one for each year of her life. And since they’ve been together for 45 years… well, you get the idea 😊
There’s always a bouquet on the kitchen table. When the flowers lose their festive look, they’re replaced right away. Another bouquet stands next to Baloo’s photo — it looks good there. Often, the flowers come straight from our garden.
There’s one in the living room, too, so they can enjoy them while watching TV.
Another — by the computer where my lady owner works, to keep her in a cheerful mood during calls with clients and suppliers.
And upstairs, in the hallway, a little bouquet on a small table next to photos of Ritchie and Mochi. And of course — in the bedroom.
Since flowers bring joy every day, that means every day is a celebration.
And not just inside the house.
My owners have taught me to see something festive in every day — no matter the weather, season, or mood.
Take early mornings by the sea: silence, just the soft whisper of the waves. The tide is out, the sand is untouched — sometimes flat like a football field, sometimes painted by the retreating waves in delicate patterns. We walk on ground where no human foot or dog paw has stepped. Isn’t that a celebration?
Or another example: we’re walking along the promenade past little shops. My owners wait for me to turn my head toward one in particular — the one that sells dog ice cream.
The key here is not to miss the moment. I stop, turn my head — and boom, mission accomplished. One of my owners runs across the road and comes back with the magic box.
It only takes ten minutes, but the celebration lasts all day!
I can feel when my owners are in a festive mood, even on days that don’t seem special at all.
Like the other day, my owner and I were sitting in the open trunk of the car, waiting. And then we saw her — my lady owner — walking toward us, leaning to one side, holding a bag with nearly ten kilos of… guess what? Turkey. For me!
There hadn’t been any turkey in the shops for ages — they even started feeding me fish — and then, finally, it appeared. She grabbed every pack of turkey legs from the shelf, hugged them to her chest, and didn’t even put them in the bag. She was afraid someone might snatch them if she let go.
She carried them through the whole store and across the parking lot to us.
You might ask: What does this have to do with a celebration? Everything!
You should have seen her face — pure joy. She’d just solved my food situation for a whole month. Bingo! She was happy, he was delighted, and of course, I was delighted too. A full day of celebration!
But of course, there are also the big holidays.
Some of them involve me directly — like when they put antlers or red hats on my head. I don’t mind — part of the job 😊
One of those days is Christmas. The whole family gathers, dogs included, and the tree reaches the ceiling. There are piles of gifts underneath. Then Mochi’s human crawls under the tree and hands out presents one by one. No one is ever left out.
But there’s one day each year that’s my day. There have been seven of them so far. I remember each one like it was yesterday. The first was before Toby — my little boss — crossed the rainbow bridge. I was still a silly puppy and didn’t understand much, but I liked it. I even let my owners blow out the candle on my cake. A cake made just for me. Toby was right there. Even the party hat didn’t bother me much.
Over the years, the celebration has changed a little: sometimes it’s by the pool, by the flowers, sometimes by the fireplace. The menu changed too — beef was replaced with turkey, but carrots have continually stayed on the plate as garnish.
The bottle of Prosecco they used to open for the photos was replaced by “Pawsecco” — a festive drink for dogs.
And of course — presents! From my owners, their friends, and the neighbours. The edible gifts disappeared fast, like Winnie-the-Pooh’s honey. The toys and other goodies I made sure to play with right in front of the people who gave them to me — to show how much I liked them.
And then — the best part. After all the excitement, food, and gifts, I stretched out on the floor and enjoyed the rest of the day.
The only slight downside is that my owners started filming everything. While they’re setting up the lights and discussing angles and shots, I have to sit there in front of the table and wait. Do you know how hard that is when everything smells so good?
But it’s worth it. Later, they laugh and smile, watching the photos and videos again and again.
I can’t wait to see what the next one will be like. Only six months to go! 🎉🐾
Stay tuned.
