It started out as such a wholesome scene—me on the living room floor, surrounded by rolls of colorful wrapping paper, shiny bows, and an endless tangle of ribbon, with holiday music playing softly in the background. My plan was to get all my gift wrapping done in one peaceful afternoon. I should have known that “peaceful” and “dog” don’t belong in the same sentence.
Baxter, my rambunctious Labrador mix, had been lounging by the fireplace, pretending to nap. But the second I unrolled that first sheet of paper, his head popped up like a meerkat. Within moments, he was trotting over, tail wagging and eyes sparkling with mischief. It was as if he thought I had laid out an entire playground just for him.
The First Attack
At first, I thought he just wanted to sit with me while I worked. Cute, right? I was wrong. The moment I smoothed out a sheet of wrapping paper, Baxter pounced on it, paws spread wide, as if he were trying to stop it from escaping. The paper made that delightful crinkling sound dogs can’t resist, and he went wild, batting at it like a cat, tongue lolling happily.
When I gently shooed him off, he grabbed the edge of the paper in his mouth and bolted. I was suddenly in a living room chase scene, desperately trying to rescue my last sheet of red snowflake paper before it was shredded into confetti.
The Ribbon Disaster
Once I wrangled the paper back (in a now very crumpled state), I made the mistake of moving on to ribbon. To Baxter, ribbon wasn’t just decoration—it was the best tug-of-war toy ever invented. I tried curling it with scissors, but every time I pulled the ribbon taut, Baxter lunged for it like a shark spotting prey.
Before long, he had a mouthful of silver ribbon, whipping his head back and forth like a dog possessed. I scrambled to get it away from him before he swallowed any, which turned into another comedic wrestling match.
Tape Trouble
Wrapping without ribbon was an option, but without tape? Impossible. Yet Baxter decided the little tape dispenser was his new mortal enemy. He kept swiping it with his paw, knocking it over, and once even tried to pick it up in his mouth. I’m still not sure what his plan was—maybe he thought it was food, or maybe he just knew it was important to me and therefore had to be destroyed.
By this point, I had exactly one gift wrapped, and the paper had bite marks.
The Ultimate Gift “Helper” Moment
The final straw came when I was wrapping a small box and needed to fold the paper neatly at the corners. Baxter apparently took this as an invitation to sit directly on the package. He stared at me with the most innocent “What? I’m helping!” face while my paper wrinkled under his weight.
When I pushed him off, he flopped onto his back with a dramatic sigh, paws in the air, as though I had broken his little canine heart. Naturally, I stopped to scratch his belly—because who can resist that?—and that’s when he made his move. He rolled over, snatched the nearly finished bow in his mouth, and trotted away triumphantly.
Laughter Wins
By the end of the afternoon, I had wrapped maybe half the gifts I planned. My living room looked like a party store had exploded—paper scraps everywhere, ribbon in knots, and a dog happily gnawing on the cardboard tube from the wrapping paper roll.
Instead of getting frustrated, I found myself laughing harder than I had in weeks. Every time I looked at his goofy face, I realized that the chaos was worth it. I’d been so focused on getting things “just right” for the holidays that I’d forgotten the joy in the little, imperfect moments.
Lesson Learned
This year, I learned a valuable truth: wrapping gifts with a dog around is less about neat edges and perfect bows, and more about making memories. Sure, the presents under my tree look a little… creative, but every wrinkle and bite mark tells the story of an afternoon filled with laughter, mischief, and love.
Next year, I might try wrapping my gifts when Baxter’s on a walk with my husband. But a part of me knows I’ll miss the chaos. After all, the holidays aren’t just about the presents—it’s about the moments we share, even the messy ones.