Tail of a Christmas Tree

No, I did not spell tail incorrectly. This is a story of two dogs and a Christmas tree. It's a rather short tale but one I want to remember and share.
The house we lived in when the children were growing up was a two story 'salt box' style with small boxy rooms. The kitchen was as big as the living room and the utility room as large as the room in the front that was supposed to be a bedroom. The bathroom was an afterthought and was only big enough for two people if one of them was in the tub. So....when we bought the house and before we moved in, Steve opened up part of the wall between the living room and the kitchen - made the cook feel less isolated and was the perfect spot to place a Christmas tree. Steve was rather anal about protecting the kids from harm and would use fishing line to attach the tree to the ceiling so it wouldn't fall. Good thing......
We moved into the house when Eric was five and promptly got him a black lab mix pup from the shelter so he could lose his fear of dogs and have a pal. It worked like a charm and Smokey was the perfect family pet (aside from a couple habits which should be the subject of another post). He would even lie on the floor in front of the wood stove and let Sara crawl on him when she was a baby - that's another story, too.
When Sara was about 4 or 5 , she decided that Smokey was too big for her to play with because he would whack her with his tail. So.....we got another shelter dog for her - a Cairn terrier, poodle, doxie mix. Muffin was the perfect pet for Sara and was a wonderful buddy for Smokey. They would race across the fields where we lived - the little white dog keeping up with the strides of the big black dog.

All this is necessary background for the tail of the Christmas tree. One year the tree was put up, secured with the fishing line, decorated and enjoyed by all. The dogs were not happy that their raceway for playing chase was partially obscured by the Christmas tree. So....one day they got playing - egged on no doubt, by wired children - and started racing around the house. Muffin safely scooted under the tree from living room to kitchen to doorway into the hallway back into the living room and around again. When Smokey tried to chase her under the tree, he got too close to the tree, flew under a branch and set the tree to spinning and tilting badly. Held up by the fishing line, the tree never fell and only a couple ornaments bit the dust. I have to admit with chagrin that I never questioned Steve about the necessity of the fishing line again. And enticing the dogs into racing around the house was forbidden during the Christmas season.