Flipper is obsessed with the original animated "how the Grinch StoleChristmas"--the one that came out in 1966, not the More recent JimCarrey travesty. She LOVES it. Watches it daily, tries to song along tothe Whos and their carols, just loves it. As a child, I hated how meanthe Grinch was to his poor dog, Max, and even now I cringe when hepicks Max up by the scruff of his neck and glares at him. This bothersFlipper not at all; she is more concerned with the poor Whos(literally, as their homes are stripped bare).Butthe message behind the whole Grinch thing really resonated within methis year; the message that Christmas isn't about presents butsomething more, and, more pertinent for me, it is going to arrive, nomatter what. A week ago, it was hard to imagine being chipper forChristmas, my very favorite holiday. My best, most amazing, friendlydog died in the middle of the night, unexpectedly. I sat with him as hegot colder and colder and his breaths came farther and farther apartuntil he finally took no more. It was awful. I had to get his body outof the house, call Flipper's father (Seamus was his dog first), make amillion muffins for school, wake Flipper up and tell her (sobs, then"where's my Advent calendar?"), go to work, exhausted as I had been upsince 1 a.m. and then come home to a house without him. The phone rang,and it was a close friend with the equally unexpected news that she hascancer. Then, a day later, the head gasket on my car cracked enough toleak coolant like mad, and, well, we all know how expensive THAT isgoing to be. I lay on my bed-without the dog that has slept here everynight for years- and tried to drum up some enthusiasm for the season.Even the brief but beautiful snowfall, while sending Flipper into afrenzy, didn't work it's usual magic on me: he loved snow and would runaround in circles, snapping up mouthfuls as he cavorted. My worry aboutmy friend was-is-impossible to shake. Night came, and Flipper and Iheaded up to the graveyard in our neighborhood for an evening snowwalk. Luckily, she still likes to hold hands, and she said, "Somethingbad happened today; Seamus died. But something good happened too, itsnowed!!" Right she was; how wonderfully she summed up this crazy oldlife of ours.And so tomorrow is Christmas, and it will come withpackages and stockings and cinnamon rolls. It will come even despitethe loss of our dog and the hopefully temporary illness of our friend,indeed, it will come just the same. And now, at this moment, on thisday, I will be happy. Very, very happy. Cheers to people everywhere onthis special day!