No Christmas presents for moi.

She forgot my Christmas present. She forgot a Christmas present for my half brother, Bertie. And my sister, Mindy, had no chance now that she's residing on the other side of Australia. The three most important creatures in her hemisphere and she forgot us.

At least she remembered Bertie at the last minute and tied a ribbon around half a dozen of my Greenies as an attempt at a Christmas present. Pathetic effort. In the meantime, the humans get parcels and bags tied with ribbons and sometimes two presents for one human while I had NONE.

All she did was tie green and red ribbons around my neck. I looked like a walking Christmas tree. A snow covered Christmas tree. Pearlescent snow white because I have just had a haircut and I am looking exceptionally beautiful. I didn't mind because quite a few humans told me how cute I looked. And I am partial to a compliment.

I didn't give her a Christmas present. But I am not meant to. Dogs don't give Christmas presents. We don't do Christmas. Except that it is a good time for special treats.

This year Bertie's mum burnt the rolled turkey. I mean really burnt. It caught fire in the barbecue and wouldn't stop burning. A ball of flame. Great ball of fire. Ooooooh, she was annoyed. I could tell. But good for Bertie and me. We got to eat the inside bits of the turkey that weren't burnt although they did taste a bit smoky.

All this who-ha for one day. But you can understand why it doesn't mean much to dogs. Where were the dogs when baby Jesus was in the manger? Not a dog in sight. Sheep, cows, a donkey, a couple of birds, camels (that the wisemen arrived on), wisemen, shepherds, a host of angels, Mary his mum and Joseph his stepdad.

Maybe we should have made an effort to visit him and see what all the fuss was about but no one told us who he was. And even if there was a star in the sky showing us where to go, why should we follow a star?

If only we had followed the star.