Around 2 p.m. We rang everyone to ask if they’d seen him—even Carol, who turned up to look with a torch, even though the sun was still out.

But guess who eventually found him? ME. He was splatted out in the cupboard under the stairs, lying on some coats, looking like a balloon with four corks sticking out. He wasn’t even blinking. Obviously, we all panicked. Carol rang 111 (who pointed out they didn’t deal with dogs). But… Mum discovered a plate under the kitchen table. Yes, tiny old Chewbacca-resembling, Jack Russell poodle cross that he is, he’d somehow dragged the whole turkey off the table. And eaten it. The Christmas turkey. Every bit?! For real—it was bigger than him. No wonder he couldn’t make all of his legs reach the floor at the same time—he’d effectively grounded himself from overeating. And I respected that. I mean, I had to. He’d totally seen what had happened with me and the selection box earlier. (And every single year before that.) (And probably next year too.) Mum was upset about the turkey, but we promised her the best bits of Christmas dinner were the accessories anyway and stuck some frozen hamburgers in the oven. If Colin had gone for the pigs in blankets, it would have been a different matter.

But then. THEN. It happened.

****** DRINK BREAK. DEEP BREATHS. Prepare to relive this. ******

An unexpected doorbell ring.

First thought: Carol coming back to tell us she’d rung an ambulance for Colin after all.

Second thought: Fred arriving early, because he’d got the time (or day) wrong.

But no. All kinds of no. IT WAS WOODY. As in, love-of-my-life Woody.

As in, Woody who makes me think deeply inappropriate thoughts, just from writing his name.

As in…

(Sorry, no, had to take a moment to think deeply inappropriate thoughts.)

When I opened the door, he said, “I thought my girlfriend deserved a surprise on Christmas Day.” Like in a film!! And he was holding out a big, red Christmas plant thing. (Have since found out it was a poinsettia. KNOWLEDGE.)

And then, right on cue…snow started falling. Most. Perfect. Romantic. Christmas. Moment. Ever.

He suggested we take Colin for a quick walk (or carry, due to his tummy dimensions) and we went to the walkway by the village hall where we’d had our first-ever kiss (November 17, 8:23 p.m.). But this time there was mistletoe. And, not to be graphic, but we stopped underneath it and…well… THERE’S NO OTHER WAY OF SAYING IT, WE HAD THE BEST KISS EVER. EVEREVEREVER.

*** PHEW, HAD TO PAUSE TO ACTUALLY FAN FACE ***

Genuinely, best of my life (not that there’s much to compare it to, hahahaha). Woody gave me this look before and after that was all mwwhhhhwwhhhwhhhw (a.k.a. the sound of me melting) and told me how much he liked me.