The Dogs of Christmas

by W. Bruce Cameron

  When the puppies were tired, Kerri and Josh carried them inside. Lucy went back to the box to feed them and Bob flopped on the floor and fell instantly asleep.

  Kerri clapped her hands in delight when she saw the two big bowls of salad and the six separate bottles of tea. “You are hilarious,” she told him. Josh loved that she was laughing but wasn’t sure that the joke wasn’t based on him being a fool. In his opinion, foolishness was not his chief attraction.

  “You have tongs, maybe, for the humongous salads?” she asked. “No, I’ll get them,” she offered as he started to leap to his feet. “I’m closer.”

  “Drawer there, under the toaster,” he said. He liked the look of it, Kerri moving across his kitchen like she belonged here. She opened the drawer where he kept things that defied category, like a hammer, a wine opener, tongs, crab crackers.

  “Oh, hey,” Kerri said. “While I was out here the other day?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I ran into your next-door neighbor.”

  “Oh,” was all Josh could think to say.

  Ryan.

  TEN

  “So, my next-door neighbor?” Josh prodded when he could speak. Kerri was pushing utensils around, distracted.

  “Nice guy,” Kerri remarked absently.

  “Really?”

  Kerri looked up at his tone. “What? Not nice?”

  “No, he’s fine.” Josh cleared his throat. “What’d you two talk about?”

  “Not much, really. Found the tongs,” Kerri proclaimed.

  Josh swallowed. “That’s good,” he told her in barely audible tones.

  She sat at the table and cocked her head at him. “What’s wrong?”

  This was one time he did not want her reading his mind. “Nothing,” he answered, shaking his head.

  “He just said the former tenant skipped out on his rent.”

  It took a second to register. “Oh, my neighbor. James Hatch.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Really nice guy,” Josh babbled. “His daughter used to babysit us. He was an engineer, the kind that drives a train. Maybe a conductor, I don’t know the difference. Anyway, he retired and became a fly-fishing guide. They used to live there but now he is down in Denver but he still rents the place.”

  “All good to know,” Kerri observed cheerfully.

  Josh felt his face go red. “Nice guy,” he repeated lamely.

  “Right, then let’s eat lots and lots of salad.”

  They crunched their way through a few bites of salad. Why had he gotten something that made it so difficult to talk? He should have bought soup or pudding or something.

  Lucy came out of the back bedroom, her nails clicking on the hardwood floor. She went to Kerri to be petted and then to Josh, where she put her head in his lap. He stroked her ears. “I know, it’s hard,” he told her. “They just eat and eat.”

  “You know? Experience in these matters?” Kerri teased, raising an eyebrow.

  “I know it looks hard,” Josh amended.

  “You start them on solid food yet?”

  “A little. Mostly, they just step in it.”

  Lucy went over to sniff at Bob, who thumped his tail and rolled on his back in utter submission. Then she turned in circles on her pillow and sank down into a nap with a sigh.

  “I can bring a cat out next week,” Kerri informed him.

  “A cat?” Josh replied, his stomach doing a little flip over the notion that she would be coming back next week.

  “We’ve got this tom named Waldo, he breaks in all the puppies at the shelter who need to learn how to behave around cats. And we need to socialize the puppies with children. Do you know any kids?”

  “Well, yeah, who doesn’t know some kids, of course I know some,” Josh replied, thinking he must.

  “I’ve got two in my building I babysit for sometimes.”

  He instantly decided that having her come out with children was a much better plan. “That would probably be a good idea,” Josh agreed. “I don’t know that many kids. I mean, I used to, back when I was … in school.” God, what an idiot.

  “Right,” Kerri agreed tolerantly. She smiled at him, oblivious to what that smile did to his insides, which felt as if they were falling from a great height.

  “So what have you been up to, besides being puppy master?” she inquired.

  “Oh. Well, I like to hike in the mornings.”

  “I love hiking,” she interrupted. “I used to drive up from Denver on the weekends but now, living up here, I can just head out anytime I want.”

  His heart gave a skip. He pictured her on the trail with him some afternoon. Soon, some afternoon soon.

  “And then I’m taking some online courses in building applications for mobile devices and other touch screens,” he finished. He flushed, realizing he sounded like a complete geek, but she just munched salad, looking mildly approving.

  Puppy squeals suddenly chorused from the back room. Lucy opened her eyes but otherwise didn’t move. “Sounds like the little ones just figured out Mommy isn’t there,” Josh noted. He set down his napkin and stood up.

  “Probably best to just let them cry it out,” Kerri observed.

  “No, I can get them back to sleep,” Josh replied. “Want to see?”

  Curious, she followed him down the hallway.

  The puppies were gathered at the near edge of the box. Rufus, his little brown spot like an eye patch, gave a tiny yip—the first bark any of them had made. Sophie had white paws which she pressed to the side of the box and a white tip at the end of her tiny puppy tail, which she started wagging when she saw Josh. Their squealing was even louder.

  “Hey … Hey … let’s give Mommy a rest,” Josh murmured. He got down on his hands and knees and Kerri followed suit, right beside him. “Go to sleep, little puppies. Night-night.”

  “I don’t think they’re buying it,” she commented.

  “Just wait,” Josh advised. “I’ve done this before. Okay? Ready?” And then he began to sing to the tune “Away in the Manger”:

  Away in a dog box,

  A quilt for their bed,

  The little dog puppies

  Lay down their sweet heads

  One by one the puppies stopped squealing and complaining. Lola, the smallest dog, lay down, and Oliver, his mouth painted white, collapsed more or less on top of her. The rest of the family toppled over as if anesthetized, sniffing and squirming before closing their eyes.

  Lucy your mommy

  Is just down the hall

  But she cannot sleep

  If you start to squall

  So sleep, little puppies

  Together as one

  And when you all wake up

  We’ll have puppy fun.

  The puppies were all asleep, Cody and Rufus in a tight knot by themselves and all the other ones in a heap with one another. Josh and Kerri were still on their hands and knees.

  “I made up the lyrics,” Josh murmured unnecessarily.

  “Wow, that’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” Kerri whispered. Josh looked at her and it was so, so easy to just stretch his neck a little and meet her willing lips, that he found himself doing just that, with no thought or planning whatsoever.

  Her perfume enveloped him and this time he did close his eyes, drinking in not just her scent but the soft, warm sensation of her mouth, which spread a glorious joy through his whole body. He knew in that instant that he would never forget this moment.

  The kiss grew a little more enthusiastic, an idea seeming to occur to both of them at the same time, and then Kerri pulled away. “Look, wait. Sorry, but this is not happening here. Not in the Amanda museum.”

  Josh hid his disappointment as Kerri stood. He climbed to his feet and followed her back down the hall to the kitchen, uncomfortably conscious of the pictures of Amanda lining the walls. “Ready to go, Bob?” Kerri called.

  “Don’t you want some more salad?” Josh asked.

  “No than
ks, I only eat one tropical rain forest a day.” She tossed a dazzling smile at him.

  “Then … would you like to take some with you?”

  “Right, sure. No more than ten or twenty pounds, though.”

  Josh wasn’t sure what was going on. She was joking with him and grinning at him, but she’d just broken off what had seemed like a very promising first kiss. Did she like him or not? He put most of the salads into containers and handed them to her.

  “Thanks. Come on, Bob,” she commanded.

  Lucy and Bob both jumped to their feet and followed Kerri as she went out the door. Josh stood awkwardly as she put the salad in the backseat and then lifted the tailgate for Bob. She had a dog crate in the back of her car that looked as if it had been in a war, the plastic sides cracked and covered with duct tape. She saw him examining it.

  “One of the volunteers at the shelter backed over it,” Kerri explained in response to the question on his face. “Luckily there were no dogs inside.”

  Bob jumped up and into the crate and then watched as forlornly as a wrongfully convicted prisoner as Kerri fumbled to shut the barred door.

  “Bob seems pretty sure he’d rather ride somewhere else,” Josh observed.

  “He doesn’t bark or cry, though. One dog howled at me all the way from Goodland, Kansas.” She slammed the tailgate and then turned and gave him her amazing smile. “Right, so, next week, like Thursday after work? Waldo and I will come out, give the puppies some cat time.”

  “Sure. It’s a date,” Josh confirmed. Except it wasn’t. A date was when romance was a possibility.

  For a second he’d been sure romance was a possibility, maybe even a certainty, but now it didn’t seem so, not at all. He didn’t understand her. Why couldn’t she just tell him what was going on? He watched her drive off and then stood looking in the direction she’d gone until Lucy nosed his hand.

  Do you know any kids? The question somehow stirred him, made him feel restless and even regretful. He found himself dialing his sister’s number—it was just after four back in Portland.

  “Hello?” she answered, something in her voice telling him she knew from caller ID who was calling.

  “Hi, Janice.”

  “Josh, wow, how are you?”

  They chatted, checking in with each other. Neither of them had spoken to either of their parents in several weeks and both of them agreed that was wrong. “I just get so busy, with the boys in football and choir,” she explained, sighing.

  Josh had no such excuse, so, he just said, “I know.” Then he cleared his throat. “So, hey. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come visit? I have these puppies.”

  “Puppies?”

  Josh explained about Lucy and the box left in his truck. “That’s an amazing story,” she breathed, awed.

  “I was thinking the boys would really like to see them.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they would,” Janice agreed.

  Josh could hear her resistance and applied more pressure. “You haven’t ever been out. Since I bought the place, I mean.”

  “I know, I just…” Janice blew out some air. “Can I be honest? I really don’t want to see the house where I grew up.”

  “What? Why? It has so many happy memories.”

  Janice gave a short, sad laugh. “Seriously? All I remember is Mom and Dad fighting.”

  “Well, sure, but otherwise, things were good, weren’t they?”

  “Wow,” she marveled, “you’re still doing it.”

  “Doing what?” Josh responded defensively.

  “Still holding all the pieces together. Trying to make it all seem good when it’s not. Trying to make it the way it never was.”

  Josh was silent.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry, Josh. I know how hard it was for you. I just … forget I said it, okay?”

  “Sure,” Josh replied tonelessly.

  “Look, tell you what. Why don’t you come out here? You and Amanda, I mean. It’s the holidays, we’ve got room. We’d love to see you.”

  “Oh. I guess I didn’t tell you. Amanda and I broke up.” Josh glanced up at Amanda’s picture on the hearth, her smile belying his words.

  “No! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”

  “Like, um, April.”

  “April? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know.” Because telling you makes it seem more real.

  “Does Mom know?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” Same reason.

  “Are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It was friendly. We’re still friends.” Except that we haven’t spoken since.

  “I’m really sorry. What happened?”

  Josh sighed and closed his eyes. This was why he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “There’s this guy,” he began haltingly.

  “Oh, Josh, I’m so, so sorry,” his sister murmured softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then … why don’t you come out by yourself? The boys would love to see you.”

  “See, that’s sort of why I called, I mean, I can’t leave the puppies.”

  “Of course. What am I thinking?”

  They talked for a few minutes before Janice had to hang up, begging a busy schedule. They promised to talk again soon and it felt like they really meant it.

  The Amanda museum.

  He found a sturdy plastic crate and went around gathering up her photographs. It was a little unfair to call it a museum—there weren’t that many pictures, no more than fifteen or so. Twenty, tops. He put the crate on the floor of the closet in his parents’ room.

  The mantel seemed really bare when he was finished, so he decided it was time to break out the Christmas decorations, knowing his mother would approve. A miniature Christmas village soon came to life, tiny carolers standing in front of a small church, houses glowing with real lights, a cute Christmas train pulled up to the station. All of it lived among the wispy cotton snow that Josh arranged, in just the right way, so that the lights reflected off of it realistically.

  What the heck. He put on the Christmas music and strung the lights over the fireplace, sipping the Good Earth spice tea his mother always had ready when the little village went up. He even brought the step stool over to the corner of the hearth, the one his little sister, Janice, needed to climb to get a good look at the display. It didn’t seem right to have the village there without the stool nearby.

  A few days later he drove into town to pick up some groceries. He took a route that led him past the animal shelter, but he didn’t stop.

  The Thanksgiving displays reminded him that the big day was practically here. He went to the freezer case and picked a turkey dinner that had mashed potatoes and gravy and a cranberry-apple dessert. It looked pretty good on the box.

  He drove past the shelter on his way home.

  Kerri came out the next day. Lucy woofed when Kerri’s tires crunched into his driveway. Josh looked out the window and there she was, wearing a blue coat with a red and white scarf. She reached into the backseat and pulled out a large gray cat. Lucy moaned, as if saying, Oh, no, not a cat.

  Josh opened the door with one hand while holding Lucy’s collar with the other. “Lucy’s not happy,” he advised. Then he remembered the last time she’d come out. “Oh, hi, Kerri. It’s great to see you.”

  She laughed at him, squeezing into the house as he backed up, pulling Lucy with him. “It’s great to see you, too. Lucy, this is Waldo.”

  Kerri lowered her arms and Waldo poured languidly out of them and onto the floor, regarding Lucy with an utterly unperturbed expression. Josh released the collar and Lucy stepped forward, her tail rigid, her ears up, the fur a ridge on her back. Waldo sniffed Lucy’s nose in obvious disgust.

  “Lucy’s been around cats, you can tell.”

  Lucy was most interested in sniffing Waldo below the base of his tail, which the cat put up with for about five seconds before whipping his head around and
hissing. Lucy jumped back in alarm, looking at Josh accusingly.

  “What did I tell you, Waldo doesn’t take crap from anybody,” Kerri chuckled. “Can we put Lucy in a bedroom? I want the puppies to meet their first cat on their own.”

  Josh shut Lucy in his parents’ bedroom. When he returned, Kerri was standing in the living room with her hands on her hips, pointedly glancing at the Christmas village on the mantel.

  “I see you’ve been doing some redecorating,” she observed.

  “Huh? Oh.” Josh flushed.

  “I like it. What will you put up when you take down the Christmas decorations?”

  “Oh, uh, I’ve got some wooden ducks, and this wooden welcome sign I made in grade school.”

  “I like that even better. Can’t wait to see it.” She smiled at him and he grinned back, a full-on, helpless grin that employed all of his face and maybe even some of his shoulder muscles.

  “Let’s let the puppies out,” Kerri suggested. They went down the hall together. “Wow, they’re getting so big!” she exclaimed. The puppies sent up a chorus of squeals when they saw her. She and Josh lifted them out onto the floor, and when they turned and walked back down the hall, the puppies followed in a flood, bumping into the walls and jumping on each other’s backs. Josh and Kerri stood in the living room and watched as they came skittering around the corner.

  And then, as one, they spotted the cat.

  ELEVEN

  For a moment it was as if all the puppies had come down with a case of rigor mortis.

  They froze in utter shock, staring at Waldo with wide eyes. When they twitched out of their paralysis they bunched up, massing together where the hallway joined the living room. Waldo stood in the center of the room as if in charge of the whole area. Heads bobbing, sniffing at the air, the dogs seemed completely flummoxed as to their next move. Oliver, out in front of the pack as usual, finally lowered his head and crept into the living room, his little tail wagging furiously. Waldo regarded his approach with unwinking eyes, totally bored. The other puppies began to follow their brother.

  Waldo took two cat steps forward and that’s all it took for the puppies to scramble back in absolute panic. They skittered down the hallway, virtually running over poor Cody, who had apparently not understood what was going on. Waldo settled at the near end of the hallway, blocking access to the living room, and stared coldly at the puppies, who were agitatedly milling around at the far end, jerking their heads up and down, wagging their tails, and crashing into each other. They instinctively hugged one wall, piling up like a traffic accident.