For as long I can remember my family has celebrated Christmas Eve with a big pot of oyster stew, lutefisk, and, sometimes, lefse. These past couple of years this tradition has not been enforced celebrated because we haven’t celebrated Christmas as much as we used to due to family circumstances.

I don’t miss the lutefisk. Or the oyster stew, but especially the lutefisk.

Here I was thinking “the holidays are over. Whew, No Lutefisk.” Alas, not so hasty, missy!

Today, my SO prepared his annual holiday lutefisk and lefse dinner.

Maybe I should back up — does everybody know what lutefisk is? Simply put it is whitefish soaked in lye. Reminds me of fish jello. And it has a peculiar smell…

And so, as he finished the preparations for his meal, the dogs began to hover around him. “They won’t eat that!” I declared as I warned the dogs away.

But Sage begged under the table.

And Annie too.

Even Winchester — the dog who will spit out ground beef - began to beg.

“They’ll eat it. See they want some” he said.

But I believe in my dogs. I know what they like and dislike. Not a chance.

NO! Sage!

And they all ate the lutefisk.

Traitors.