There are many stories about heroic dogs in the world, Lassie rescuing people from wells, Scooby-Doo bravely running away from absolutely everything. Yet none of these legends come close to the epic saga of Athena the Elegant, the two-year-old husky who combined beauty, brains, chaos, and stubbornness in such a perfect balance that even the universe occasionally paused to stare.
Athena was a vision of grey and white, with her short, sleek coat that shimmered whenever she strutted through a room as though she were late for a royal appointment. Her eyes, one a clear, dreamlike opal blue and the other a deep, warm chestnut, seemed to pierce straight through anyone who displeased her or dared to sit on her favorite blanket. She was soft-hearted and gentle, yet driven by an energy level that suggested she had been born in a nuclear reactor. She was elegant and intelligent, but also mischievous, dramatic, and so stubborn she could out-negotiate a brick wall.
Her talents were numerous and varied. She could leap over furniture not with the clumsy hopefulness of an ordinary dog, but with the airborne grace of an Olympic gymnast who had discovered caffeine and hubris on the same day. She snuggled blankets with a level of devotion poets write about, and she chewed noses with a tender affection that was almost sweet, except for the part where it involved telling everyone she loved them by nibbling their faces. And, of course, there was her favorite pastime: digging up the garden with the enthusiasm of a pirate convinced treasure was buried under every rosebush. For these reasons and several more that accumulated daily, she earned the affectionate nicknames Princess and Miss Pants.
Living in her royal shadow was her younger but significantly larger brother, Obito. He was a one-year-old malamute with a black face, tan eyebrows, tan legs, grey fluffy body, and the biggest toe beans known west of the sun. He was clumsy, derpy, enthusiastic, affectionate to the point of drowning people in love, and still in the process of growing into his huge, polar bear-sized paws. While Athena moved with the poise of a dancer, Obito moved with the grace of a sofa being pushed down a gentle incline. Whenever he wagged his tail, he wagged his entire body and occasionally the furniture as well. His love language was comprised entirely of wet, sloppy kisses and a goofy, open-mouthed smile that suggested he had once tried to count to ten and given up around three. Thus he became known as Mr. Toe Beans, Love Bug, and occasionally The Big Baby Who Forgot Where His Legs Were.
Their humans had decorated the Christmas tree one frosty December evening. It stood tall, glittering, and majestic, covered in lights and ornaments and the unspoken hope that the dogs would not immediately destroy it. At the very top was a single decorative bird, perched delicately as though surveying its kingdom.
Athena spotted it immediately.
Her head tilted. Her eyes narrowed. She advanced with all the exaggerated suspicion of a detective in a dramatic crime show. She sniffed. She stared. She judged. The more she looked at the bird, the more obvious it became: this was an intruder. A trespasser. A sparkly impostor perched at the top of her tree, mocking her with its silent, feathery face.
The elegant hunter awakened.
Athena stepped back. Then further. Then even further. She lowered her body, wiggled her backside with intense concentration, and focused every ounce of her wolfy heritage into a single goal: bring down the enemy.
She leapt.
Not merely jumped, no, she ascended as though gravity itself had politely stepped aside. She spun midair, a perfect twist of fur and power, clearing the sofa by such an impressive margin that Obito’s eyebrows shot up past their usual height. She soared in a slow-motion moment worthy of dramatic orchestral music and landed squarely on the tree.
The partridge fell.
The tree fell.
Athena, victorious, stood amidst a blizzard of tinsel and glittering debris, breathing heavily and glowing with triumph. She gazed down at the now-lopsided, plastic bird lying on the carpet, and in her mind declared herself the savior of the living room.
Obito, witnessing this act of valor, decided he needed to contribute. He bounded forward with absolute enthusiasm and zero coordination. His enormous paws immediately tangled in a long strand of tinsel. He tripped, rolled, and slid directly under the fallen tree like a runaway couch cushion. After a few seconds of confused wiggling, he emerged with tinsel draped across his nose, an ornament stuck to his backside, and a smile so proud that Athena momentarily forgot to be annoyed.
He trotted over, wiggling all four limbs as though he’d been built without hinges, and leaned down to give Athena a gigantic, sloppy kiss across her cheek. She accepted the gesture with the weary patience of an older sister who loved her sibling but also questioned every decision he had ever made.
And so the humans returned to find the tree toppled, the ornaments scattered, Obito smiling proudly through his tinsel web, and Athena sitting like a regal guardian over her defeated plastic enemy. It was chaos. It was disaster. It was festive mayhem.
It was, in short, a perfectly normal day for Princess Miss Pants and Mr. Toe Beans.
And somewhere, beneath the pile of tinsel and triumph, lay a single decorative Christmas bird that would forever be remembered as the spark that started the legendary Partridge in the Pear Tree Incident.

©️Lainey Green Intwined.blog

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