by Kristen Otte
Over the next two days, I add more and more acorns to the stash. My family catches on to my routine. They let me stay outside longer, so I can collect more acorns.
“Why is Zelda collecting acorns?” Lucy asks.
“Because Zelda thinks she is a squirrel,” Nate says.
“Zelda is a little pug. Why does she think she is a squirrel?” Lucy asks.
“I don’t know dear,” Nate says. Lucy asks more questions, and I know my family thinks I am crazy or confused.
A few days later, I spot Squeaks from my kitchen chair. I scratch at the front door, and Hannah leashes me. My excitement is so high to see Squeaks that I sprint for the backyard with my leash trailing behind me. I turn the corner to the back of the house. Squeaks sits at the bottom of the tree. He runs for the tree line. I am disappointed and out of breath, so I stop running. Squeaks disappears into the woods. I return inside with Hannah, sad I didn’t meet Squeaks.
I sulk and sleep away the next few days. I give up my backyard stakeout, and I ignore the acorn stash. Maybe I am foolish to think Squeaks and I can become friends.
A week later, Squeaks is a distant memory. I meander into the backyard with Hannah to do my business, like any other day. As I look for the perfect spot, Squeaks’ scent fills my nostrils. I follow my nose toward the tree line. I hear a squeak and gaze into the tree. Squeaks is perched on a branch above my head with an acorn in his mouth.
Clunk!
The acorn hits me on my forehead wrinkles. Squeaks makes lots of noise.
Is he laughing at me?
I think he is. Squeaks runs across his branch to another tree, darts down the tree, and races back up the tree above my head. I look up to see he has another acorn.
I’m not falling for that twice!
I scamper to the right, and the acorn falls to my left. Squeaks leaps to a nearby tree branch and runs down the trunk. I run to the tree and meet him at the bottom of the trunk. Squeaks and I arrive at the same moment. We look into each other’s eyes. I freeze, unsure what to do.
Squeaks makes the first move. He grabs another acorn, runs back up the tree, and finds his place above me. I stay still.
Clunk!
Squeaks makes more noise. I air kick below him, kicking leaves, dirt, and grass everywhere. I hear more squeaking and look above. Squeaks smiles down on me. I smile back and look into Squeaks’ eyes. He returns the eye contact, and I know we are not enemies–we are friends.
“Zelda, time to go inside,” Hannah yells. I bark a goodbye to Squeaks and trot back inside.
10
A Pug Christmas Story
The trees are bare, the air is cold, and the cool breeze creates an uncomfortable chill. The sun shines for less of the day. The crunchy morning grass and the frozen puddles on the edge of the yard signal a sad truth. Winter is here.
With my short hair and small body, I am not built for winter weather. I return from walks with a nasty case of the chills, so my time outdoors is limited. Luckily, I have Ben and Lucy to keep me busy. My favorite indoor toy is the purple owl. The owl has the loudest squeaker. To top it off, the wings of the owl crinkle. I love playing with it.
As usual, I take my afternoon nap while the family is gone. I wake up mid-afternoon to the front door opening. I awake to greet Hannah, Ben, and Lucy.
“Ben, grab Zelda,” Hannah says. Ben scoops me into his arms as Hannah opens the front door. Nate walks in carrying a pine tree bigger than him. He places the tree in front of the big window in the living room.
I have seen flowers and small plants indoors before, but never a full-size tree. I search my brain for a reason to plant a tree inside our home, and the only idea that pops in my head is squirrels. Maybe we are getting a pet squirrel?
I walk over to the tree and sniff for clues. My sniffs turn to sneezes instantly. I back away. The treetop almost touches the ceiling. Compared to the trees outside, it’s a small tree, but in our home, the tree looks huge. The sneezing fit passes, so I smell for squirrel scents. I find no trace of squirrel.
Hmmm…
A few minutes later, Nate brings boxes from the basement, cluttering the living room. Hannah, Nate, Ben, and Lucy spend the next hour playing with the tree. First, they wrap strings with colorful lights around the tree. Next they place balls, other objects, and tiny statues on the tree. Everything they place on the tree resembles a toy.
“Does Zelda have an ornament?” Ben asks.
“Here it is,” Nate says and hands something small to Ben. He hangs it on the tree, but it’s hanging so high on the tree that I can’t see it.
I examine the tree a second time. My sneezes and itchy nose return. I find a little man with a red hat, red coat, and a long white beard hanging within my reach. I stand on my hind legs and use the windowsill to keep my balance. I knock the little red man with my paw and he falls to the ground. I grab him with my mouth and run to Lucy.
“Hi Zelda,” Lucy says. “Mom, Zelda has something.”
“Zelda, what is that?” Hannah asks. “Nate, can you help me out? I think Zelda has Santa.”
“Maybe Zelda is trying to tell Santa what she wants for Christmas,” Nate replies with a grin.
“Zelda, drop it,” Nate says. Compelled by his command, I drop the statue on the floor.
“This isn’t a toy,” he says. Nate picks up the statue and places it back on the tree above my reach.
I find a small, shiny red ball hanging low on the tree. I grab it and bring it to Ben.
“Zelda, give me that,” Ben says. I run away, and he chases me.
“Mom, Zelda has another ornament,” Ben yells in between breaths.
“Get it from her Ben. She can’t have them,” Hannah yells.
“I’m trying,” Ben shouts.
I run in circles until Ben pins me in a corner.
“I have you now!” Ben reaches for me. I squirm furiously to avoid his reach, but in the process, I drop the red ball.
“Ah hah!” Ben says. “I got it Mom!”
“Thanks dear. Bring it back to the tree. Let’s move the ornaments higher so Zelda can’t reach them,” Hannah says.
“But then I can’t reach them either,” Lucy says. Her bottom lip is turned up.
“I’m sorry Lucy, but we don’t want Zelda to break the ornaments or to hurt herself with one,” Hannah says.
“It’s not fair,” Lucy cries. She walks into her bedroom.
“Not again,” Ben says. “Lucy is always crying.”
“Be nice to your sister,” Nate says. “She’s young. You cried a lot at that age too.”
Since I can’t play with the tree toys, I run to Ben with one of my tennis balls. We play until I am tired. I lie on the couch, and I fall asleep.
I awake to some noise outside and an empty house. From my perch on top of the couch, I see a man walking three dogs on the sidewalk. I sprint to the window. I stand up, resting my front legs on the windowsill. I start barking. One of the three dogs sees me and barks back. The other two dogs follow his lead.
I race to the other side of the tree to get a different view. I stand on the windowsill, but my front feet slip. I plummet into the tree. I hear something hit the floor, but I ignore it. I stand again on the windowsill, searching for the dogs. They are out of sight. Bummed, I step down to the floor. A tiny statue of a boy rests under the tree.
I pick it up. It’s a little hard for a toy, but it will work. I take it to the back bedroom and bury it in the blanket on the bed next to a milk-bone.
After an afternoon away, my family returns home with bags and boxes. They cover the boxes with colorful paper, put them under the tree, and call them “presents.” Over the next week, more presents appear under the tree.
Every day when my family leaves, I look for another toy to gather for my growing collection of tree toys. I stand on the presents to knock down the toy from the tree. I take the fallen tree toy to a hiding spot.
So far, I have a small red ball, a small green ball, one little boy, and one littl
e girl. I hide the toys in my favorite milk-bone spots. I have one in my crate under a blanket, one sandwiched between pillows on the couch, and two under the blanket in the spare bedroom.
“Hey Zelda, what are you doing?” Ben asks when he arrives home that afternoon. I am digging under the pillow in the living room. I stop, scared Ben will discover my secret. Hannah joins us in the living room.
“Ready for Christmas Eve dinner?” Hannah says to the family.
“Yes Mom. Can we bring Zelda?” Ben says.
“Sure, why not? My family loves Zelda.”
We spend the evening with Hannah’s family. I love their home, especially when I know the visit is short. I run and sniff all corners of the house while the family eats, drinks, and laughs together. When we return home, I head straight for bed and drift to sleep.
I hear Hannah and Nate wake up early the next morning. They are normally slow to get out of bed, but not this morning. I get up from Lucy’s bed and follow them into the living room, careful not to wake Lucy. Hannah and Nate put more presents under the tree and as they finish, Ben and Lucy come downstairs. The whole family gathers around the tree. They pass each other the presents and open them one by one. They smile and laugh throughout the entire process.
“Zelda, do you want your Christmas present?” Ben asks.
Ben grabs a big sock hanging on the wall and places it in front of me. I walk over and sniff it. Inside, I see something green. I stick my paw in the stocking and try to get it out. The green thing is stuck in the stocking, but I wedge my paw in the stocking and move it to me. As I put pressure on the green thing, it squeaks.
I recognize that sound!
I move it a little further, so I can grab it with my mouth. I pull out a brand new green owl with a perfect squeaker. I run sprints with it through the house. I bring it to Ben, and we play tug of war.
“What is this?” Hannah asks.
“Huh?” Nate says.
“Come here Nate,” Nate walks over to Hannah.
“Look at this,” she says. She lifts the pillow on the couch to reveal the small green tree ball hidden next to a milk-bone.
“Zelda hid this ornament here,” she said.
Hannah found my hiding spot. I’m in trouble.
“So our pug hides Christmas ornaments?” Nate asks with a big smile.
“I guess so,” says Hannah chuckling. “I wonder if we will find any more around the house.”
“Probably. Oh well, it’s Christmas,” Nate says.
“That it is,” Hannah says. She leans over and kisses Nate.
“What would you like for Christmas breakfast?” Nate asks.
“Pancakes!” Hannah says. Nate goes into the kitchen and begins cooking breakfast. I follow him into the kitchen. Maybe he will drop some pancake pieces or bacon on the floor. If not, it’s still a great morning. I have a new owl, and I didn’t get in trouble for hiding the tree toys. But I still have no idea why we have a
giant pine tree in our living room!
11
Zelda vs. the Snowman
“Dad, it’s snowing!” Ben shouts. Lucy and I are in bed, wrapped in warm blankets. With winter in full swing, I stay under the blankets most of the day.
“I wonder how Zelda will react to the snow,” Nate says to Ben. Nate sits on the couch with a mug in his hand.
“She needs to go out. Why don’t you take her and find out?” Hannah says from the kitchen. The word “out” sends me running to the front door.
“Okay, let me find some warm clothes,” Nate says. I run in circles around Nate while he puts on his shoes, a giant red coat, and something black on his head.
“Are you ready, Zelda?” he asks. My tail bounces from one side to the other.
Nate attaches the leash and opens the front door. I dash out the door, onto the porch, and freeze.
White stuff covers the ground and the trees. One step at a time, I walk down the steps from the porch. The white stuff is cold yet soft; my paws sink into it. I am not sure I like the feeling. I turn around, jump up the steps, and scratch at the door.
“Back inside already? Don’t like the snow?” Nate says.
Snow. That must be the name for the white stuff.
“I don’t think Zelda likes the snow,” Nate says. “She took one step and ran inside.”
“She has to like the snow. All dogs like snow,” Ben says.
“Zelda isn’t a normal dog,” Hannah shouts from the kitchen.
“Nope, she’s better than a normal dog with her wrinkly face, curly tail, and snorts,” Ben yells back. He grabs my owl and throws it. I fetch it and bring it to him.
“See Mom, Zelda is a great dog,” Ben mutters.
Ben and I play until Lucy wakes up and wanders into the living room. I snuggle with her on the couch and snore the day away.
I wake up later in the day and look out the window. The snow covers the yard, and small drops of snow fall from the sky
How long does this stuff last?
Hannah walks into the living room and sees me gazing out the window.
“Do you want to go for a walk in the snow?” Hannah asks with a book in her hand. No, not really, but I walk to the front door. I can’t avoid the snow forever. I have to go out.
“Okay Zelda, I’ll take you, let me find your hoodie to keep you warm.” Hannah walks over to Vacuum’s closet and opens the door. I sprint to the door and bark at Vacuum until Hannah pushes me out of the way and closes the door. In her hand is a pug-sized blue shirt. She grabs me, sliding the shirt over my head and my front paws.
With the shirt on my body, I feel trapped. I squirm, but nothing moves. I’m stuck in it, and I probably look ridiculous. With a big sigh, I walk to the door.
The snow is higher than earlier, almost to my stomach. As I walk, I forget about the coldness of the snow and begin to like its softness. I run through the snow, letting it splash around me. Hannah and I run down the sidewalk together.
We stop at the corner, so I can catch my breath. When I stop moving, a cold wind blows, and I’m thankful for the blue shirt. As we walk back home, my curiosity about the snow grows.
Can I eat it?
I take a quick bite as we walk. The snow melts in my mouth and refreshes my dry throat. I stop for more and more mouthfuls on the way.
I could eat this stuff all day!
When we arrive home, I dash indoors to warm up, but this snow stuff is growing on me.
During the evening, Nate takes me for another walk. The sky is dark, but the snow casts a faint glow, and it’s eerily quiet outside. We walk down the street on the sidewalk. The wind is blowing harder than earlier, and when we reach the corner, I’m shivering.
Up ahead, I notice a large shadow in someone’s yard. As we approach, the shadow grows into a familiar shape. The shadow is cast from a man, who is almost as tall as Nate. The man is made of snow, but much rounder than Nate or Hannah. He has stone black eyes and mouth, stick arms, a scarf, and shoes. I don’t know who is this man, and I don’t want to find out. I spin around to return the way we came.
“Zelda, this way,” Nate says. I pull him the opposite way, but Nate resists.
“C’mon girl.”
I bark a few times and try again to move in the opposite direction of the shadow.
“Okay, okay,” he says. Nate lets me leave the shadow. We scurry home.
“How was your walk?” Hannah asks as we walk in the door.
“A little short, but I think Zelda was cold, and she may be afraid of a snowman,” Nate says to Hannah.
“Wait, Zelda, let me take this off,” Nate says as he pulls the shirt off me. I lick his hands, find a spot on the couch on top of the fuzzy blanket, and fall asleep.
Suddenly, I am running down the street through the snow. Something is chasing me. I look back as I run, and I see it. The man with stone black eyes glides down the street after me. I try to run faster, but the snow is deep, slowing me down.
“Zelda.”
I hear my name a
nd open my eyes. I’m lying on the couch without a snowman in sight. It was a nightmare.
“Sleepy-time,” says Lucy. I slowly rise and move to Lucy’s bed. I lie under the covers next to her.
I have trouble sleeping that night. I can’t stop thinking about the man with black eyes. The man haunts me in my dreams. When sunlight shines through the window the next morning, I am grateful.
Not long after I wake up, Hannah takes me on our morning walk. I lead her on the same route as the previous night. At the corner, my heart starts beating faster. I know we are getting close. I continue forward, but at a slower pace. From a distance, I see the white mounds rising out of the ground.
I stop several feet in front of the man. His white body glimmers in the daylight and his black eyes pierce into me. I start barking.
“Zelda, it’s okay, it’s just a snowman,” Hannah whispers. “He can’t hurt you.”
I want to believe Hannah, but my instincts tell me otherwise. I back away from the snowman. Hannah walks to the snowman and touches his body with her hand. The snowman doesn’t move an inch.
“Cmon, girl, it’s okay,” she says. I walk closer and closer. I take bites of snow along the way. I can’t help it; I eat when I’m nervous.
The snowman stands motionless, and with Hannah’s reassurance, I take a few more steps. I am next to the snowman. I take a bite of the snowman’s belly. The snow is delicious and refreshing.
Wait a minute, I just bit the snowman!
I take one step backward, scared of the snowman’s reaction. The snowman’s black eyes stare at me, but he doesn’t move.
I inch closer. No movement. I am standing next to the snowman. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself. The snow looks so delicious.
I take a bite of the snowman, then another bite, and another, and another.
“Zelda, leave it! Stop eating the snowman!” Hannah says in between laughs. She pulls me away from the snowman, back to the sidewalk. I run forward and lead the way, stopping for mouthfuls of snow or a good scent. When we return home, I curl up on the couch. I won’t have nightmares tonight, just sweet dreams of eating a giant snowman.