But my Mom never hosts Thanksgiving. She's not a fan of cooking turkey (and frankly, I've tasted her turkey, no one is a fan of eating it...) That means my family puts us girls in our crates and takes off to parties unknown.
We spend all day in our crates, and I might be the only one who knows what Thanksgiving is since when I was a young pup, my family took me everywhere and I know attended several Thanksgivings, but that doesn't mean Sarah Beagle and Olive Badger are unaware of doings a-foot.
We saw Mom baking a pie. We hung out at her feet and scarfed up any bits of pie crust that fell to the ground. We hopped around her feet as she was making sweet potatoes in the hopes that she would drop a marshmallow. She did not. We watched our family get dressed up (even Dad!) and we knew it was party time.
Just not party time for us!
And that is why I'm not thankful on Thanksgiving. I will be a little thankful later if, after Mom makes turkey sandwiches for lunch, she gives each of us dogs a little piece. That would go a long way to making me smile!