OK. I may be a dog, but I do know something about Hannukah. That's because my human mum is Jewish (and reminds me, like, a million times a day, that the mum defines the kid's religion). No matter that I'm not her birth child and that my ancestors came from Yorkshire (and were, no doubt, raised in the Church of England). Who am I to squelch her insistence that I'm a Jewish Airedale?
I thought at least we'd get to celebrate Hannukah. (I had read up a little on the customs and figured I'd get eight doggie treats, one for each night.) But when the first night rolled around, my mum took no notice. The next night? Same thing.
It's now the fifth night of Hannukah. So far, no sign of candles or extra doggie treats.
Oh well. At least there's Christmas next week!