swag wagon

A giant basket now sits on our kitchen island, a big question mark that arrived via Fedex ground last Friday. It's not that I don't know who it's from, or how it is that this basket came into our lives, but a matter of what I should do with it. A basket full of goodies, that I know Baxter would heartily enjoy, but whose fate for me remains uncertain. But let me explain.

A couple of weeks ago, somebody left a comment, one I felt to be a polite yet shameless promo for milkbones, albeit a campaign they were having in partnership with some socially worthy canine program of some sort. I failed to see the charity, only the spammishness of their post. My nimble fingers reciprocated by quickly deleting the comment, and typing a polite yet displeased message back to the folks at Milkbone. Take that, person who didn't even feign interest in the blog and wouldn't share your profile with anyone. Don't mess with a passive aggressive cantankerous spam-sensitive person who has enough time on her hands to actually write back, no matter how worthy your program might be.

Having released all my steam, I figured my message would be the end of it. Then, as if karma already knew this day would come, I opened a package from precious Annie that had arrived earlier, and amongst other things found in it a sweet gift of milkbones for Baxter, which tiny chumley heartily and gratefully consumed after posing for thank you pictures.

So as luck would have it, my punishment to Milkbone for posting a tiny, barely there piece of comment spam that I quickly deleted? Better exposure, ironically, in the form of a fine picture of Baxter holding one of Annie's milkbones on his nose the following day.

A week or so later, I opened my email to find a message from the PR firm responsible for the spam. They were sorry and it would never happen again and could we send you a milkbone basket to help make amends and hey can we facebook and twitter around that picture of Baxter with the milkbone? Boy I was starting to feel like I overreacted. Sure, I finally told them, thinking I might could expand blog readership a bit with the twittering, and after shamelessly letting them know that my talented boy and I were essentially available for milkbone parties and bar mitzvahs.

Yikes, I realized after hitting the send button. Did I just sell out to da man? Have I become a canine pageant mom? And does Baxter really need this corporate bounty when there are so many other pups who need it more?

By the time the package arrived, my little boyfriend had grown quite accustomed to assuming all packages were his, and he immediately went to sniffing about, wooty woot wooting around this most bodacious find. Politeness, which had always been a hallmark of Baxter's ways in the past, seemed to take a back seat when faced with what he smelled to be the bounty before him. Without a doubt, Baxter would enjoy each and every thing in that basket, and there's a lot of stuff to enjoy. At least three big boxes of milkbones, at least three stuffy squeaky toys and who knows what other bounty might be in there. All sent here because I got cranky. Although I am very grateful, I'm not sure this should be the reason why Baxter or I should be receiving gifts. Especially when our motto is about celebrating and sharing the bounty of our lives.

So I'm putting out the question to you, in the form of a poll that'll close in a week's time. Should Baxter get to enjoy some or all of it, donate some or all of it, and/or share all or some of it with you? Please select a ticky over on the poll and let me know what you think. The fate of tummies near and far are in your hands. :)