I feel my eyes open in small doses. Never thought I'd be waking up on my own. Must be an age thing.

I grunt as I turn to check the bedside clock. Sunday, 8 AM. I could stay under the sheets for a while more, but the body does what's gotta do. 

My arms stretch high; well, as high as a raccoon can, anyway. And turn to face Elton to my left.

His soft snores are the loveliest thing. I place a quick peck on the side of the caribou's muzzle, trying my darndest to not wake him up. Mission failed. He grunts a little, adjusting himself on those sheets. Sorry, honey.

I gingerly get outta bed, afraid to bother him more. A wave of cold hits me like a truck, so I grab my lounge robes. Once, I mocked the things, but by George, I love'em now.

Once I'm done, I move towards the pale light flowing from the window. Another snowy day, who would've thunk! Stay cool, Regina! Sometimes I miss the dry days of good ol' Waco. Heck, could even go for some Austin right now. As much as I miss it, whenever I look at my left hand, I know I made the right choice.

Husband. Heh, I still can hardly believe it! Even toying with my ring makes me misty eyed. I reckon some folk would say settling at twenty-six is too early; but I know I want no life without my hubby...

I'd better move from this dang window before I catch a cold. After I get some morning relief in the men's room, I head to the kitchen downstairs.

Downstairs! Ha, this darn house is too big for us! Elton's family, good Canucks they are, fixed the place for us. They are not from Sah-sketch-wan, so the Lord knows how they set this up. Well, ain't gonna complain about being back in the suburbs.

Anyhow, once I'm on the first floor, I rush to the coffee machine in the kitchen. Once the doodad is up n' running, I rip a page off the calendar.

The year of our Lord is 2007. Just over a year ago, we walked through that front door for the first time. Nervous as a cat about money n' the like. In time, all settled fine enough. Wouldn't trade my car repair job for anything in the world. Richard ain't the best pop, but he raised a fine mechanic, I tell you what!

A sharp ding and I'm quick to get myself a cup o' joe.

As I pour my "World's Best Trash Diver" mug, I hear hooves on the wooden floors. The resident reindeer is up and in his pink robes. His warm yawn echoes through the kitchen.

"Good Morning, Alan."

"Morning, hunk. Coffee?"

He hums a sluggish response. I move to the fridge as his frame drops on a chair.

"Almond?"

"Yup."

Poor baby only drinks coffee with milk. Takes all the edge away from it, I say!

After pouring both mugs, I peer at the caribou reading a newspaper. If I squint hard enough, I swear I can see that awkward exchange student reading during recess, now and then adjusting his square glasses over the light fur of his muzzle.

"Something wrong?" He says, peering over the black and white pages.

"Ah. Sorry. Got distracted." I approach the table with both drinks, setting the cups and taking my seat. "So, what's the news?"

He relays to me the important bits and we talk over coffee. Nothing special, but the weather forecast says more wind and snow. Peachy!

He puts the cups in the sink after he smooches me on the forehead. He was never a breakfast guy, and I'm realizing I picked up that from him.

I watch my man waddle towards the living room rather than his office upstairs. I address him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ain'tcha gonna work on a second best seller or something?"

"I'm taking the day off." I hear him plop on the couch. "Care to join?"

We just woke up; and he wants to relax... No way I'm gonna pass on that!

As I arrive at the room, I can see him lied down, channel surfing. His chubby body takes all the space, and his robes suspiciously open. His body fascinates me; the contrast between his body's dark fur and lighter colored belly, his gut flopping downwards, and the dark-blue boxer briefs. That tease! And he says he wants to relax, huh?

"Gonna scoot?" Like I don't know the answer.

He puts his hand on his chin and hums, pretending to be thinking real hard.

"Nope!"

"Yer the one who called me here!" I chuckle, he follows suit. "Alright, ya big softie."

As I climb onto the massive pillow of fur my caribou is, I'm surprised at how much he dwarfs me. I'm climbing Mt. Elton-est right now! Only stop when I can lay my face between that flabby chest.

I can just drop my head no prob; like a pillow. A warm, handsome pillow that kisses me once I'm in position. We go back to skipping from channel to channel.

We catch a lotta commercials between shows. It's late September, so many are Thanksgiving ones. Canadians have the exact darn holiday on a different date. Messes me up!

The thought of Thanksgiving stuff is making my head spin and my heart race. Every holiday jingle makes me as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. And it ain't long till' someone notices.

I'm shocked as the 24'' TV turns black, and Elton's voice flees his mouth.

"Alan, what's the matter?"

That man can read me like a darn book. And thank the Lord he does.

"Dana called... Like four times."

"I see... Did you answer?"

"Naw," I adjust my muzzle to face him, "just listened to the voice message."

He sighs. I feel my entire body turn numb and a sudden coldness shoots from my core to the tip of my fingers.

"So," he says while peering into my eyes, "want to talk about it?"

Nope. Absolutely not. I want to bury that life in the yard of our new, beautiful home and live happily ever after with my dearest hubby.

And yet...

"Elton..." My hands grab the fur and fat beneath me. "She invited me... Invited us. And I dunno what to do..."

"I see. Well, we don't have to go. We can stick around again. Maybe see my folks in October."

Were it that easy. There's one thing in the way of that...

"This year's different..." I cower against him, curb my tongue over n' over, hold back my teary eyes. All for nothing. "God dammit!" I cry at the reindeer's worried look. "I miss'em, Elton. Fuck! They hate you... they hate us! They make me plumb angry! We came here to never deal with'em again. But... But!"

Large arms wrap around me, and my tears press against his fur.

"I know, baby. I know."

When I notice Elton, he's crying too. That just rips my heart. I sob even more, eventually, we both do; for minutes, even! Grown-ass men, pitchin' a hissy fit over nuthin'.

Once we calm down, we spend a few more minutes in good ol' awkward silence. He's caressing my hair; love it when he does that. He acts like the bigger man and speaks up first.

"What are you going to do?"

"I dunno yet..."

"Well, if you ask me, I think the fact you still care for them, means there's more to them than 'hating queers.'"

I stay quiet, but I see the wisdom in what he's sayin'.

"That's okay. I think you have time." He removes the hand from my head and puts on my chin, forcing me to face him again. "Just so you know, I'm behind whatever you decide, alright?"

He shoots me his beautiful smile. Call me sappy, but every smile of his feels like the first I've ever seen. That man is my safe harbor, I can count on him. Better let'im know that.

"Yes. I know my big, beautiful husband will be there for me."

"And always will."

We put our muzzles together. I thought it'd be a quick peck, but his tongue wants more; and I'm happy to oblige. Reminds me of our first kiss, too. That was an awkward smooch, but I love that memory all the same.

After our wet embrace, I prop myself off the couch (off Elton, really) and fix my robes before heading to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, you can spend the whole day like a couch tater. I'm gonna work on my car."

"Fine. Fine."

He turns the TV back on and actually spends morning lazin'. I stop at the edge of the doorframe, I must tell Elton one last thing.

"You can count on me too. I love you."

"I know. Love you, Alan."

I step away with a silly smile on my muzzle. I hear one last cry from the living room.

"And don't you hurt yourself on that Lemon!"

Calling my dream car a lemon. What nerve! He's lucky I love him!

"I won't!"

October passes by, and late November just creeps in on me.

I check around the house one last time. Cab's outside, plane tickets are all good, no hazards in sight... Ah! Almost forgot to rip the page off the calendar.

Goodbye, Wednesday. Hello, the longest weekend of my life.

I go from the front door to the shivering Canada cold. Looks like Elton has already fit the luggage in the car. After he closes the trunk, he beckons me.

"Ready, Alan?"

Nope. Not one bit. I wanna run back in and hide in the sheets. Spend all morning in bed, and the rest of the day working on my car. Never think about any o' this ever again.

...

I lock the door and put on a determined smile.

"All good!"