“Oooo…nyu housie am su pwetty! Fwootcae wub!” The chubby little filly cooed in amazement as she stared around with wide eyes. Your wife was glaring angrily at you after you set the box down, “I thought I said NO SH-“ You move in to kiss her, effectively stopping the angry words, “Mistletoe, dear.” You pointed up, “ You also said that I needed to love whatever your dear, sweet nephew Henry gave us. He said he worked hard all year to make me the best Fruitcake.” You nodded towards the little filly in her box. “Oh, Dan….I guess. I did say that, didn’t I?” You grin, now you got some brownie points for listening to your wife, while simultaneously also disobeying her absolutely no pet fluffies rule. You couldn’t wait to see if your wife cracked and killed the thing, or if her favorite nephew’s happiness that they loved their pet he worked hard to breed special outweighed her dislike for the creatures.
Maybe, just maybe you could get her to keep it alive long enough to regift it next year and say it ran away?