The Christmas Dog

by Melody Carlson

  “Hey, Betty,” Katie called out as she took her mail out of the box.

  Betty waved and smiled. “I thought you’d have taken the girls to your mother’s by now.”

  Katie came down the walk toward her. “That was the plan. But then my mother came down with that nasty flu, and I didn’t want the girls to be exposed to it.”

  “I understand.” Betty nodded, then frowned as she glanced over at Jack’s house again. Just what was that man up to anyway? Had he taken the dog? And, if so, how would Avery react?

  “Is something wrong?” Katie looked worried. “Tell me, Betty, has Jack done something again?”

  Instead of voicing her concerns about Jack’s interest in her granddaughter, Betty quickly explained about the missing dog. “He’s shown up at Jack’s more than once, so I thought maybe he’d be there today.”

  “You still have that dog? I saw all those dog posters around, and I figured the owners must’ve called you by now.”

  “No.” Betty shook her head. “And I’m not sure what to do about it. My granddaughter, who’s staying with me right now, is getting very attached to the mutt, but we will most definitely have to find a home for him soon.”

  “You mean if you find him at all.”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Betty sighed. “He’s a nice little dog, but he’s also a bit of a nuisance with all this running-off business.”

  “I know what you mean.” Katie pulled her knit hat down over her ears. “We had a runaway cat for a while—every time Fiona took off, the girls’ hearts were just broken. I could hardly stand it. I’d waste hours on end just hunting all over for her.”

  “I remember,” Betty said. “She was a little black and white cat. Sometimes she’d be in my yard.”

  Katie nodded. “We got her spayed and everything, but it made no difference. She had absolutely no sense of boundaries. She’d be gone for a week and we’d be almost ready to give up on her, then she’d come home again. Naturally, the girls would be deliriously happy, and for a while everything would be fine. And then foolish Fiona would pull her little disappearing act again. I finally decided it was in the best interest of the girls’ emotional welfare if that crazy cat was gone for good.” Katie had a sly expression now. “The next time she ran away . . . she never came back.”

  Betty blinked.

  “I simply took her to the pound, Betty. And I told them that the cat needed to be out on a farm where she could roam freely.”

  “How did the girls feel about not seeing Fiona again?”

  “Naturally, they were sad. But they got over it. In the long run, it was really the kindest solution. Better to deal with these things early on—less pain that way.”

  Betty nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “Anyway, I’ll let you know if I see your funny little dog around,” Katie said.

  Betty placed a hand on Katie’s arm. “Say, I’ll bet your girls would love to get a dog for Christmas.”

  Katie just laughed. “A runaway dog, Betty? Weren’t you listening?”

  “Well, I thought it was worth a try.”

  “Thanks anyway.”

  They parted ways, and Betty made a mental note to take the Gilmores a cookie plate—a small consolation for being stuck in this neighborhood during the holidays.

  Betty walked up and down the street one more time, calling and looking, but with no luck. As she walked, she replayed Katie’s story about the runaway Fiona. Maybe Katie was right about this. Maybe it was better to just get it over with, get rid of the dog before anyone—specifically, Avery—had time to become too attached. Yes, it made perfect sense. And if she were lucky, the dog would go away and stay away on his own. Maybe that’s what he had already done. He certainly seemed the type.

  She was about to turn the corner to go home and forget all about the mutt when she saw that familiar red pickup coming down the street. She waited for Jack to slow down and then watched him drive right up on the curb, over the sidewalk, and park right in the middle of his brown yard. Such a lovely sight.

  “Hey,” he called out to her. “I got your dog.”

  Betty hurried over, ready to demand to know why in the world this thoughtless young man felt it was okay to nab someone’s dog and then drive him around in his truck. Furthermore, if he thought that was acceptable behavior, where did he draw the line? Would he be kidnapping Avery next and—

  “I found him out in the street,” Jack said as he climbed out of the pickup. The dog hopped out behind him, looking none the worse for wear. “I drove by your house earlier to drop him off, but your garage was open and your car was gone.”

  “I was getting my hair done.” She realized that this had probably come out sounding rather snippy. But she was angry and getting angrier.

  “Yeah, well, it didn’t look like anyone was home. So I decided to take Ralph to the lumberyard with me.”

  “Ralph?” Betty was surprised that Jack actually knew the dog’s name.

  “Yeah, that’s what Avery said she’s calling him.”

  “Avery can call him whatever she likes, but he’ll be going to the dog shelter before the day is over.”

  Jack scowled at her. “Shouldn’t that be up to Avery?”

  Betty wanted to tell him to mind his own business but decided to go another route. “Avery will be returning to Atlanta for Christmas, and with holiday travel costs what they are these days, and this being at the last minute, I seriously doubt her parents will be willing to pay airfare for this stray dog as well.” She bent down and clipped the leash onto his collar.

  Jack’s dark eyes felt like drills boring into her now. “Does Avery know you’re taking Ralph to the pound?”

  Betty blinked. “I told my granddaughter that I’d give the dog a few days to be picked up by his owners. Since that does not appear to be the case, she will surely understand about this.”

  Jack just pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “I am in no position to be adopting a pet,” she said. Not that it was any of his business or that she needed to defend herself to the likes of him.

  “I’m not suggesting you are.” He just shrugged.

  “Come on,” she said to the dog, jerking firmly on the leash.

  Jack watched her with obvious disapproval.

  “Come on,” she said again. Fortunately, this time the dog listened and began to move.

  “Anyway,” Jack called as she began to walk away, “thanks for the cookies.”

  She turned and looked back at him in surprise. “You . . . you’re welcome.”

  Then he smiled. But, for the life of her, she could not read what was behind that smile. In some ways it seemed genuine, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that it was a mocking smile. As if he knew something she didn’t. And it was unnerving.

  Betty took the dog into the house, put him in the laundry room, securely closed the door, and proceeded to look up the number for the animal shelter. As the phone rang, she reminded herself of Katie’s story, of runaway animals and broken hearts. Really, it would be for the best.

  Finally, a man answered, and she quickly explained her situation.

  “We’re pretty full up right now,” he said.

  “I’m very sorry about that,” Betty said. “But this is not my dog. I’ve allowed him to stay with me, but I can’t continue this. He had no ID or collar or anything. And it’s been almost a week. I’ve already called the local vets and posted ‘found dog’ signs, and I even offered him to my neighbor as a Christmas present for her little girls.”

  The man chuckled. “That didn’t go over?”

  “Not too well.” She almost told him about the runaway part but thought that might not present the dog in the best light. “So, you see,” she said, “I really need to bring him in. Before the weekend, if possible.”

  “We’re open until six.”

  “Thank you.” Betty hung up and just hoped that Avery would get home from the church in time to make it to
the shelter before six. She also hoped that Avery wouldn’t be too upset or try to put the brakes on this solution. Because, really, it was for the best. It made no sense for either Betty or Avery to hang on to this mutt any longer.

  And yet, if it truly was for the best, why did she feel so uncertain? Why did she feel somewhat guilty?

  Just then the phone rang, causing Betty to jump.

  “How are you, dear?” Marsha asked.

  “Oh my! Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course I do. What’s the matter?”

  So Betty poured out the whole frustrating story about the stray dog and the unexpected granddaughter and everything. Almost. The only part she left out was in regard to Jack. But that was only because she knew Marsha lived a protected life. With a gated neighborhood and a modern security system in her home, Marsha couldn’t possibly understand a neighbor like Jack.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” Betty told her about the need to take the dog to the shelter. “I’d drive him myself, but I let Avery use my car so she could set things up for your anniversary party tomorrow.”

  “Avery is setting things up?”

  Betty could hear the concern in Marsha’s voice. “Oh, she’s very talented,” Betty said. “Much more creative than I am.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s been working on it for the past few days.”

  “The past few days?” Now Marsha sounded impressed, and Betty worried that she may have overstated things. “Isn’t that nice.”

  “So, you see, I’m without a car. And I’m worried the shelter may close before Avery gets back. And then we’d be stuck with the dog all weekend, and I just don’t know what to—”

  “Well, I was just on my way out to pick up Jim’s favorite suit at the cleaner’s. How about if I come and pick you up?”

  “Oh, I would be so grateful, Marsha. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “What are friends for?”

  Betty waited on pins and needles, watching eagerly for Marsha’s silver Cadillac to pull up. She so wanted to take care of this business before Avery got back from the church. She’d already put on her coat, and the dog was on his leash. Her purse and gloves were ready to grab up in order to make her getaway.

  It was nearly two when she saw Marsha’s car coming down her street, and even before she pulled into the driveway, Betty and Ralph were out the door and heading toward her.

  “My, but you are eager,” Marsha said as Betty opened the door on the passenger side.

  “I didn’t want to waste any of your time.”

  Marsha frowned slightly. “I don’t suppose you have a doggy carrier for him, do you?”

  “I’m sorry.” Betty bent down to pick up the dog, then eased herself backward onto the seat and planted the dog securely on her lap before turning her legs around. “But I’m sure he’ll be no trouble.”

  “I just don’t want him to scratch the leather upholstery. Jim wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  “I’ll be very careful.”

  “Very wise of you to take care of this doggy business before the holidays,” Marsha said. “Pets can be such a nuisance, underfoot, breaking things.”

  Betty felt unexpectedly defensive of the little dog just then. And she almost told Marsha that this animal was different, that he didn’t break things or get underfoot, and he certainly would not scratch up Marsha’s upholstery. At least she hoped not. And he didn’t disappoint her—he sat perfectly quiet as Marsha drove them across town.

  “I’m so looking forward to the celebration tomorrow,” Marsha said. “I can’t wait to see who comes.” She explained that her daughter Karen had let it slip that they’d received some unexpected RSVPs. “She wouldn’t say specifically from whom, but I could tell by the way Karen said it that we’d be pleasantly surprised.”

  “How nice.” Betty patted the dog on the head and tried not to feel guilty for what she was about to do. Surely the dog would find a good home. Besides, what choice did she have? Avery would be returning to Atlanta soon. Having the dog around would only make it harder on everyone. Betty was doing her granddaughter a favor. Not only would it please Avery’s parents, but it would keep her out of harm’s way where Jack was concerned.

  “Here we are,” Marsha said as she pulled up to a cinder-block structure that looked more like a prison than a shelter. “Would you like me to come in with you?”

  Betty considered this. The truth was that moral support would be most welcome right now. But then she looked at Marsha’s lovely leather jacket and considered the animal smells that would most likely permeate the building, combined with Marsha’s general disapproval of pets. “No,” she finally said. “I’ll be fine. But thanks for offering.”

  Betty picked up the dog and set him outside the car, but she could tell by his quivering body that he was just as nervous as she. And he was probably even more frightened. Still, she suppressed these troublesome thoughts as she walked toward the entrance. This really was in the best interest of everyone, she told herself as she reached for the door. Katie had said as much, and so had Marsha. Betty was foolish to think otherwise.

  As she entered the building, hearing barks and yelps of other dogs, she knew that she’d done Avery a big favor by handling this on her own. It took strength to do something like this.

  “May I help you?” asked a young woman in blue jeans and a sweatshirt.

  Betty quickly explained her phone call and how a man had told her she could bring the dog in. The woman asked her some questions and finally handed her a rather lengthy form. Betty carefully filled it in and gave it back to her.

  The woman studied the form, then frowned at Betty. “You’re sure you wouldn’t want to keep this dog?”

  Betty glanced down at the dog. He looked up with such trusting brown eyes that she forced herself to turn away. She shook her head. “No, no. I can’t have a dog. You see, I go to Florida next month, and I don’t have anyone to care for him . . .” She continued rambling about how she planned to sell her house and perhaps look into some kind of retirement home. Even to her own ears it all sounded rather lonely and sad . . . and perhaps a little bit phony.

  The woman took the leash from Betty’s hand. “It’s not required, but we like to recommend that people who leave pets in the shelter make some kind of a donation toward the welfare of the animal.”

  Betty tried not to look too surprised as she opened her purse. “I live on a fixed income,” she explained as she extracted a ten-dollar bill and several ones. “Will this be enough?”

  “Thank you.” The woman smiled. “That will help to buy pet food.”

  Betty nodded and backed away from the woman and the dog. “Yes . . . I suppose it will.” She turned and made her way to the front door, realizing that everything looked blurry now. She reached for the doorknob but couldn’t actually see it. She fumbled until it turned in her hand. Then, as she went out into the cold air, she realized she had tears running down her cheeks. She was crying again. The third time this week. And this time, she was crying harder.

  She paused to reach for a handkerchief, drying her tears and blowing her nose before getting back into Marsha’s warm car. Goodness, she thought as she tucked her hanky back in her coat pocket, all this emotion—just for a dog?

  11

  Betty was relieved to see that her car was not in the garage when Marsha pulled into her driveway.

  “You seem very quiet today,” Marsha said as she put her car into park. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Betty sniffed. “As I said, it’s been a little stressful this week.”

  “I hope our anniversary party hasn’t added to your stress.”

  “No, not at all. In fact, Avery seems to have thoroughly enjoyed helping.”

  “I’m so excited to see what she’s done.”

  Betty nodded. “So am I.”

  “And now I better get over to the cleaner’s.” Marsha looked at her watch. “C
an you believe that I’m still not finished packing yet?”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot about the cruise Jim booked.” Betty gathered her purse and reached for the door handle. “When do you leave again?”

  “Sunday morning. We’ll miss the Christmas service in church.”

  “I’ll miss you too.” Betty sighed as she opened the door.

  “At least you’ll have Avery to keep you company.” Marsha reached over and patted Betty’s shoulder. “That’s a real comfort to me. I told Jim that I felt sad to think of you spending Christmas alone this year.”

  Betty forced a smile. She did not intend to tell Marsha that Avery might be going home after all. Why cause her concern? “Avery has decorated the house and wants us to cook a turkey. Do you know I haven’t cooked a turkey in years?” Betty was out of the car now. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Marsha. Thank you again for helping me with the dog.”

  Marsha waved as she backed out of the driveway.

  Betty went through the garage into the house. She paused by the laundry room, where the dog’s things were still in their place, as if the dog would be coming home any moment. Betty quickly gathered up the dog bed and bowls and stashed them on a low shelf in the garage. Out of sight, out of mind. Or so she hoped.

  Then she made a cup of tea and sat down in her recliner to relax. But as she sat there, all she could think about was that silly little dog. And even when she closed her eyes, hoping for a nap, she felt as if those liquid-brown canine eyes were indelibly printed inside her head. Finally, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through the familiar channels until a figure skater appeared.

  “I’m home,” Avery called as she came into the living room.

  Betty opened her eyes, blinking into the light.

  “Sorry, Grandma. Did I wake you?”

  “It’s okay.” She smiled at her granddaughter, watching as Avery removed her parka and unwound the bright scarf from around her neck.

  “It’s so cold out.” Avery rubbed her hands together. “I really think it’s going to snow.”