The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories

by Jenny Dale

  Gavin blushed slightly and twisted his empty coffee mug round and round. “I was hoping you’d dress up as Father Christmas, Bob,” he mumbled.

  Neil, Emily and Carole all laughed.

  “Father Christmas! Me?” Bob shook his head. “You are joking?”

  “No. You’d be perfect. You’ve got a real way with dogs,” the vicar insisted.

  “Well maybe . . . But what about the kids?” asked Bob.

  Gavin smiled. “Oh I’m sure they’ll be as good as gold. Will you do it?”

  “I don’t know . . .” Bob began, pulling a face.

  “Oh go on, Dad,” cried Emily. “You’d be brilliant.”

  “You’d look great in that red suit,” Neil chuckled. “You might have to dye your beard, though.”

  Sarah came into the kitchen, carrying her hamster, Fudge, in her cupped hands. She was frowning. “Shhh,” she said crossly. “I’m trying to teach Fudge to dance. He wants to be a ballerina, like me.” Sarah thought her hamster was the cleverest creature in the world.

  Neil started to laugh, then hastily changed it into a cough as Sarah turned a furious face towards him. “How’s he getting on, Squirt?” he asked.

  “He was doing really well until you all started laughing and putting him off,” huffed Sarah. “What’s so funny, anyway?”

  “Dad’s going to dress up as Father Christmas and give out presents to dogs and children,” Emily explained.

  “Why can’t the real Father Christmas do it?” asked Sarah.

  “He’s too busy,” said Gavin. “But he’s quite happy for your dad to stand in for him.” The vicar turned to Bob. “So will you do it?”

  “Of course he will,” Carole said quickly. “And he’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

  “There’s your answer, then,” said Bob with a grin. “If Carole says I’ll do it, then I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent.” Gavin beamed at him. “I’ve got a big sack of presents in the boot of my car. I was wondering whether you and Emily might be able to wrap them for me, Neil?”

  “We’d love to,” Emily said eagerly.

  “I’ll give you a hand bringing them in,” offered Neil.

  The vicar stood up. “Thanks for the coffee, Carole. And thanks for agreeing to stand in for Father Christmas, Bob,” he said with a wink. He called to Jet and the black Labrador stood up and stretched.

  “Let us know as soon as there’s any news about the baby,” said Carole.

  “I will. See you soon.”

  The vicar followed Neil outside. It was still snowing; large white flakes curled thickly down from the heavy grey sky. The tracks that Neil and Emily had left when they had come in from the rescue centre were already half filled with snow. Neil tilted his head back so that the snow settled on his face. A few flakes drifted into his open mouth and he let them melt on his tongue.

  While Gavin unlocked the boot of his Morris Minor, Neil watched Jake and Jet. The two dogs slid along the ground on their tummies, pushing the snow into heaps with their noses and front paws. Then they rolled over, barking excitedly, and leapt up again, sending the snow flying up in wild flurries.

  Neil groaned. “Typical! Now Jake will have to be dried again.”

  Gavin lifted a black bin bag out of his boot. “Here you are, Neil. Thanks for agreeing to wrap them.” He opened the car door and Jet darted across to him and jumped inside. The Labrador scrambled over the front seats and flopped down on a rug in the back. “Bye, Neil,” Gavin called as he started the engine. “Good luck with those pups. I hope you manage to find homes for all of them.”

  “Thanks! I’m sure we will,” Neil said cheerfully. But he didn’t feel quite so sure. If they were going to find homes for Holly and her brothers and sister before Christmas, they’d need all the luck they could get.

  4

  “I wish Gavin had bought presents that were easier to wrap,” Emily said, pulling a rubber bone out of the plastic sack on the floor. “Some of these things are really fiddly.”

  “If you think that’s difficult, have a go at one of these,” said Neil, waving a pyramid-shaped puzzle at her and making the balls inside it rattle. They were sitting at the kitchen table, wrapping presents for the Christmas grotto. Jake lay stretched out on his side in front of the stove, basking in the heat.

  “Hey, why don’t we phone Jake Fielding about the puppies?” Emily suggested suddenly. Jake was the young reporter for the Compton News and he’d helped the Parkers out before, when they’d needed publicity for their rescue dogs. “That article he did about them in the paper when they were first found was brilliant. I’m sure he’d do another one about them needing homes – and take their pictures. I bet loads of people would want to adopt them, then.”

  “Brilliant, Em!” said Neil. “Let’s ring him straight away. And we could make posters and put them up around Compton.”

  “Yes. We should put an ad on the King Street Kennels’ website too.”

  Neil finished wrapping the pyramid puzzle then fetched the bin bag and held it open by the edge of the table. “Slide the wrapped presents in here, then we’ll ask Mum if we can use the office computer,” he said to Emily.

  They hurried to the office and found Carole hard at work on the computer.

  “Oh, we were going to make some posters advertising the puppies,” Neil explained, looking disappointed. “I suppose we can come back later if you’re busy.”

  Carole shook her head and sighed. “I’ve had enough of office work for the moment – I’m exhausted now. The computer’s all yours.”

  It didn’t take long to make the posters. “They’re nice and bright,” Emily said approvingly as she took the first one out of the printer. She read it out: “Wanted: good homes for gorgeous Labrador puppies. Apply to King Street Kennels, Compton.” Underneath this heading was a photo of the puppies that they’d scanned into the computer. Neil had taken it the day before the puppies had moved from the Parkers’ kitchen to the rescue centre. They were all sitting on the rug, gazing at the camera appealingly.

  Neil phoned Jake Fielding while the posters were printing, and the reporter promised to come over the next day to take the puppies’ photo. He said he could probably get the story in that week’s issue of the Compton News.

  “Loads of people will see them in the paper,” said Emily, when Neil had rung off and told her the good news. “I bet we’ll get hundreds of people phoning about them.”

  Neil laughed. “We don’t need hundreds. Only three . . . Or four,” he added, “if Alex doesn’t come back for Holly.”

  “Do you think she will come?” Emily asked.

  Neil shrugged. “I hope so. Anyway, let’s not worry about Alex now. We need to update the King Street Kennels website.” He connected to the Internet, then added the puppies’ details and their photo to the website. “There,” he said. “I just hope lots of people read it.”

  Neil and Emily put the posters into a plastic bag to keep them dry, then set off for Compton with Jake. It had stopped snowing but there was no sign of a thaw. They walked quickly, their footsteps muffled by the deep snow that covered the pavement. “I hope this weather lasts,” said Neil as they turned into the high street. “A white Christmas would be ace!”

  Strings of coloured lights hung across the high street and most of the shops had a decorated tree in the window.

  They reached the supermarket and Emily took a poster inside. When she came out again an assistant was already positioning it in the window. “Wow! It looks brilliant!” Neil whooped. “People will spot it from a mile off.”

  “No one will be able to resist having a puppy when they see that photo,” said Emily.

  They continued down the high street, taking posters into the greengrocer’s and the shoe shop. Neil glanced back at them as he walked towards the baker’s. “There are already people looking – Oof!” he gasped suddenly as he collided with someone and stumbled backwards.

  Jake darted over and jumped up at him. He seemed to think Neil was play
ing a game. “Get off, you daft dog,” Neil said. He gently pushed Jake down, and saw Alex standing beside him, holding a loaf of bread and grinning.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Fine. Was it you I bumped into?”

  “Yes. But it’s OK. You’ve only dented my loaf a bit,” Alex laughed, bending down to stroke Jake. “Your dog’s lovely,” she said, rubbing his head. “What’s his name?”

  “This is Jake,” Emily said.

  Neil watched her making a fuss of the young Border collie. It was obvious that she loved dogs and he wished that he could persuade her to take Holly. The two of them would be good for each other.

  “We’ve made some posters advertising the puppies,” said Neil. “Do you want to give us a hand with them? We’re trying to persuade shopkeepers to display them.” Perhaps helping to find homes for the puppies would make Alex realize that she did want Holly after all, he thought.

  Alex looked doubtful. “I don’t think . . .” she began hesitantly.

  “Oh go on,” Neil pleaded, holding out a poster to her. “We could really do with some help, couldn’t we, Em?”

  Emily looked puzzled but she nodded anyway.

  “All right, then.” Alex took a poster. “Aren’t they gorgeous?” she said, looking at their picture. “I should think everyone will—” She broke off and bit her lip, but Neil felt certain she’d been about to say that everyone would want to adopt one.

  As soon as Alex took the poster into the baker’s shop, Emily turned to Neil.

  “Why were you so desperate for Alex to help?” she asked. “I mean, it’s not as if we can’t manage.”

  “I thought she’d be more likely to take Holly if she was involved in finding homes for the other puppies,” he explained.

  “Ah . . . nice idea,” Emily said approvingly.

  Alex reappeared a moment later, smiling broadly. “They’re going to put it up.”

  “Brilliant!” said Neil. He handed Alex another poster. “Do you want to try the sweet shop next?”

  They carried on through the centre of Compton until they had run out of posters.

  “My grandad used to breed Shelties,” Alex said as they turned to walk home. “He goes to loads of doggy events. If you print out some more posters I’ll ask him to put them up in Manchester – if you like.”

  “That would be ace!” Emily said enthusiastically. “The more people who hear about the puppies, the more chance we’ve got of finding homes for all of them.”

  Alex looked wistful for a moment. “Are they all good-natured?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Emily said. “They’ve all got their own personalities. Santa’s very sweet – he’s the little black one. Candy, the golden one, is inquisitive, Cracker’s really playful but Holly’s the most friendly.”

  “Why don’t you come and visit Holly at the rescue centre?” Neil suggested. “I’m sure she’d be glad to see you. And you could meet her brothers and sister too.”

  Alex shook her head unhappily. “No, thanks.”

  “I expect Holly will be feeling a bit lonely at the moment,” Neil went on. “She lived with your mum and dad for four days so she’s used to having people around her. She could definitely use some company.” He didn’t tell her that he was constantly popping into the rescue centre with Emily and Sarah to see the puppies. After spending so many weeks hand-rearing them in their kitchen, they all wanted to see as much of them as possible.

  Alex shook her head again, more firmly this time. Her eyes were sad. “Daisy was my dog. I don’t want another one.” There was an awkward silence. Neil realized that persuading Alex to take Holly back wasn’t going to be an easy task.

  “Why don’t you help us with the Christmas grotto at the church, then?” asked Emily, changing the subject. “We promised the vicar we’d wrap all the presents. We’ve made a start but there’s loads more to do.”

  Alex frowned.

  “Oh, go on,” Neil said. “We’ll never get them done on our own.” Perhaps we’ll be able to persuade Alex to visit Holly once she is at King Street, he thought hopefully.

  Alex nodded. “All right,” she agreed, looking a bit less miserable.

  “Come round tomorrow morning,” said Emily. “And—” She broke off suddenly as somebody called her name.

  A blond boy was dashing towards them, weaving in and out of the shoppers on the pavement. “Emily! Hey, Emily!”

  “It’s Tom Charlton,” Emily said. “He’s in my class at school.”

  Tom pounded up to them, his face glowing with excitement, and skidded to a halt. “I saw your posters!” he panted. “I’ve just moved to a house with a garden and my mum and dad said I could have a dog. Will you save one of your puppies for me?”

  “It’s not quite as simple as that,” Neil explained. “My parents will want to talk to your mum or dad before they let you have one of the puppies. But I’m sure it will be OK,” he added quickly as he saw Tom’s face fall. “When do you want to come?”

  “How about tomorrow morning?” asked Tom eagerly.

  “OK, come over at about half past ten,” Neil said.

  “You won’t let them all go before then, will you?” Tom asked.

  “No, of course not,” Neil promised.

  “I don’t know which one I’ll choose. They’re all gorgeous,” Tom said.

  “They certainly are,” Emily agreed.

  “See you tomorrow then,” said Tom. He raced away.

  “Our poster campaign’s working!” Emily cried, delighted. “At this rate all the puppies will be gone by Christmas.”

  Neil turned to speak to Alex but she wasn’t there. “Hey, where’s Alex gone?” he asked. He looked along the high street and saw her hurrying away with her head down. Neil guessed she was thinking about Daisy. But perhaps she was feeling guilty too, for rejecting Holly when Tom was obviously so enthusiastic about giving one of the pups a home. Or perhaps she was even worried that Tom might choose Holly.

  “Poor Alex,” said Emily. “She looks so unhappy.”

  “Holly would know how to cheer her up,” said Neil. “We’ve just got to find a way of making her see it . . .”

  5

  “The phone!” Neil cried, jumping up from the breakfast table next morning. “Perhaps it’s somebody ringing about the puppies!”

  Bob Parker laid a restraining hand on his arm. “I don’t want you scaring a potential customer away by begging them to take one of the pups,” he laughed, and went out of the room to answer it himself.

  Neil sat down again. Jake, who was sitting beside him, watched hopefully as he bit into a slice of toast. “You’ve had your breakfast, Jake,” Neil laughed.

  The Border collie gave him a doggy grin and thumped the floor with his tail.

  “That was Gavin, calling from the hospital,” said Bob, reappearing in the kitchen doorway. “The baby’s on the way now – over a week early. Poor Gavin’s worried about the grotto, and he’s asked if we could start decorating it later.”

  “Brilliant!” Emily cried.

  “You bet!” whooped Neil.

  “What about you, Sarah?” Carole asked. “Do you want to help decorate the Christmas grotto?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No. I’m giving Fudge a dancing lesson. And I’m making a Christmas card for the puppies.”

  Bob drained his mug of tea. “That hamster must be the best dancer in the world.” As he headed for the back door there was a knock on the front door. Emily hurried to answer it and came back with Alex.

  “Oh I’m sorry,” said Alex, looking at the breakfast table. “Have I come too early?”

  “Of course not,” Neil said, reaching for another slice of toast.

  “Neil,” Carole laughed. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

  Neil shook his head. “Nearly. This is Alex, Mum. She’s going to help us wrap the presents for the grotto.”

  “Hello, Alex. Would you like some breakfast?” Carole asked.

  “No thanks,” said Ale
x. “I’ve only just had mine.”

  “Nobody’s phoned about the puppies yet,” Neil said, while he and Emily cleared the kitchen table. “I visited them this morning. Holly seemed a bit miserable but she perked up when she saw me.” He watched Alex as he spoke. She definitely looked interested when he mentioned Holly, and Neil was convinced that was a good sign.

  They sat round the kitchen table and set to work wrapping presents. Jake watched them curiously for a while, then he flopped down by the stove for a nap.

  “Perhaps you and I could take the money at the grotto, Alex,” suggested Emily.

  Alex smiled. “That’d be great! I might get to meet some people then. It’s funny living in Compton and not knowing anyone. I had loads of friends in Manchester.”

  “I’ll introduce you to some of my friends from school, if you like,” said Neil. “You’re going to be in my class so you’ll get to know them soon anyway.”

  “I’d like that,” Alex said, cutting off a length of sticky tape. “By the way, I phoned my grandad last night and told him about the puppies. He said I could send him some posters – and he’s going to ring his friends to see if they know anyone who wants a puppy.”

  “Ace!” Neil finished wrapping a squeaky dog ball and put the parcel on the growing pile in the centre of the table. “I’ll print out some posters for you today.”

  Just then Neil heard the sound of a car turning into the drive. He looked out of the window to see who it was. “It’s Tom and his dad,” he told Emily and Alex. “They’re bang on time – Tom really must be keen!”

  As soon as Neil opened the door, Tom asked anxiously, “You have kept me a puppy, haven’t you?”

  Neil grinned. “Yes, don’t worry.” It was good to see somebody so genuinely enthusiastic about adopting a dog. Neil was already sure that Tom would make a good owner.

  Tom’s eyes lit up. “Brilliant,” he said, following Neil across the yard to the rescue centre. “I’ve wanted a dog for ages and ages.” He grinned at his dad, a friendly-looking man with short ginger hair. “Now I’m going to get one at last.”