Four Christmases ago my sister and I got the best Christmas present anyone could ever wish for: A puppy! My parents planned the whole thing to its tiniest detail and made my grandparents accomplices in order to make the surprise the best ever.

We had a dog, her name was Sage she died of lymphoma on December 3, 2004, we all missed her terribly, nothing and nobody will ever replace her. However, my dad thought that a puppy would be the perfect Christmas present that year and he was right!

The story went something like this ... I was 8 and my sister Ale was 5. We had spent the night of the 23rd at our friend Amanda's house. When our mom came to pick us up, we were reluctant but she convinced us by saying that we could open one present when we got back, instead of waiting like we usually do until after Christmas Eve dinner. When we got back home, our dad called, mom answered the phone and said that dad asked us to pick up a movie at the local video store. I remembered that we needed to get carrots for Santa's reindeers as well.

We went back to town, got the movie and the carrots and arrived home only to see our dad wrestling to keep the lid on a huge gift box. "There's something in here!" he said, sounding slightly out of breath. He then got off the box and a tiny brown head poked out. "A puppy!"

We screamed, but didn't move. I finally walked over and lifted the puppy out, only to be licked to death. I was holding a tiny, squirming Chocolate Lab that was going to turn 8 weeks old on Christmas Day. You see my parents (with help from our grandparents) had been planning this for three weeks. My dad had gotten the dog from a breeder in Vacaville  when he was 6 weeks old, and had left him in my grandparents care (they lived in Yountville but we were still living in a tiny town in the Santa Cruz Mountains) until Christmas Eve, when he had picked him up, brought him back, called Mom from a pay phone in town to tell her to get out of the house so he could put the puppy in the box. The puppy had slept through all of this and Dad figured he would sleep in the box as well. Obviously he was wrong about the last part, but the rest of the plan had been executed perfectly, and we had suspected absolutely nothing.

Getting the puppy to us was one thing, but naming him was a completely different story. Ale and I wanted Cocoa, which seemed to fit the 7 lb. puppy ... for now. My parents objected. We found a Web site where you enter the breed, size, color and gender of your dog and a list of "possible" names comes up. Cocoa was on it, but my parents still objected. Bruno and Brutus were their favorites. We liked Bruno more than Brutus so we went for that one. Four years later, I'm glad they didn't let us name the poor dog Cocoa. Bruno is close to 100 pounds and looks NOTHING like a Cocoa. Everyone we meet say Bruno fits him perfectly. I agree now.

Did your parents ever surprise you with something "big" like ours did? Did you ever surprise your kids with a puppy? 

I wonder what kind of dog Sen. Obama is going to get for his daughters as he promised?

Is it true that people look like their pets? Do they have similar personalities? I look at Bruno and I have to say: Yes he does, in a lot of ways.