Dear Santa Hoss, 

By now you are used to hearing from me each year, upon the advice of my legal counsel, just before you make your final “naughty and nice” list.

Judging by my feed bucket on Christmas morning, I think we have come to an understanding about how angelic I really am. However, I thought it my obligation as her trainer to write to you this year with suggested edits to my Human’s Christmas wish list.

I firmly believe that Christmas can and should be a training exercise, just like any other event in life. As you well know, Santa, we can’t fall victim to her Millennial mindset that she is a special precious snowflake who should be rewarded with commercial goods for yet another year of appalling sweaters and sneezing without covering her mouth.

And so, I have made an alternate Christmas list for her, which I believe is both practical and pointed. Hopefully this will save both of us some headaches when we review her performance this time next year.

• A copy of “Exercising for Dummies” – chosen mostly because I find the title shockingly appropriate.
• One of those circular butt pillows given to sufferers of broken tailbones. You know, just in case.
• Every single diet supplement GNC has to offer.
• Tickets to the National Finals Rodeo – consider it a preview of the “Boot Camp” I plan for this summer.
• A box of tissues – for after she gets a look at my Boot Camp preview.
• Band-Aids

• A bright orange life jacket, like the kind you find on boats; I believe in practicality—with as many tumbles as she’s taken this year, one of those super fancy inflatable cross country vests would get ripped to shreds in six months. A life jacket is more cost effective for your elves, and the fluorescent nature will make it easier to find her if I happen to lose her in tall grass. Or in the water complex.
• Swimming lessons and a snorkel mask – With the recently-discussed changes to the cross-country program, I’m anticipating splashing through lots more water obstacles in the future and it may take a few dunks before she learns to sit back during drop downs.
• An industrial size tub of Neosporin because, well…yeah.
• More Band-Aids

• A (SILENT) toy to keep her distracted between horse show rides. The Human needs to learn that part of sports psychology is using your nervous mental energy for something productive. I’ve tried pooping on my whites between classes to give her something to scrub, but it hasn’t been working. Perhaps a Rubik’s Cube would satisfy her?
• On second thought, a ball and cup toy would probably be more intellect-appropriate.

• A gift certificate for liposuction – because statistics show most workout plans are abandoned by Week 3.
• A miniature camera which can be easily mounted to her helmet during schooling exercises. I’d like something that also measures decibel levels and impact rates, so we can review crash videos together with complete data. Either she will learn to grip with lower leg, or I will figure out that perfect proportion of twist to slam in the top corner of the arena.
• A plastic chess set in hopes of improving her strategic planning skills. As of now, her attitude toward stadium courses goes as far as ‘Where was Fence 2, again?’
• Still not enough Band-Aids

• A letter thanking her for volunteering to be a test subject at the local beauty school. That’ll teach you to take a pair of scissors to my mane, Lardcake.

See you in a few days, my friend. Merry Christmas. And don’t forget the molasses cookies for my stocking.

Sincerely,
Jitterbug