White Dog tried to balance the tone of the day. The White Dog Army was totally NOT understanding the entire "humans change the clock and screw up meals and treats" thing. There was much grumbling and complaining.
"Well," their wise leader told them, "we can spend the day grousing or we can put together a celebration; it is Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead." "Don't be silly, Zsofia countered, "Halloween was yesterday!"
"Not Halloween," I intervened. "Day of the Dead is a day to celebrate and remember those gone before us and our ancestors. It is a tradition in much of MesoAmerica and celebrants arrange feasts, flowers and family get-togethers to honor them. We have a lovely tribute wall in the office that might be the start of a good altar and I think White Dog has the idea to set up a picnic in that room with all the elements of a blowout WDA party."
"Exactly," White Dog nodded to me. "So let's take a vote...moping or Dia de los Muertos?"
No White Dog EVER voted against a party. White Dog assigned tasks of finding marigolds, decorating, making pan de muerto (bread of the dead), finding sugar skull candies, and preparing chicken tacos. No pup even noticed the time change as we all worked to put together a feast fit for all of our loved ones over the Rainbow Bridge...and for those of us here.
We felt the presence of our Angels as we looked at photos and munched. When Tiz darkened the room so Steve could carry in a tray of flan cups, each with a small candle, we all wooed in delight.
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