“Don’t you think it’s too soon to talk about getting another puppy for Christmas?” I asked, stealing another piece of bacon from the plate. “No,” Carol insisted. “You know how sad Crystal’s been since Mistletoe crossed the Rainbow Bridge.” “You mean since the dog died,” I translated, not being one for euphemisms. “Yes. It’s not good for her to cry all the time. She isn’t even excited about Christmas this year,” my wife replied. “But it’s only been a few weeks…”