A Dog Named Christmas

by Greg Kincaid

  Later that morning, Hayley arrived to pick up Ruthie and the puppies and Todd left me to help her. She didn’t say anything about taking Christmas and we didn’t mention it either. I stayed away, still cursing myself, uncertain of my decision and feeling a little bit sorry for myself. It happened again. I was attached to this dog and now I was going to lose him, just like Tucker and Charlie. Alone in the barn, I sat on the milking stool and stewed. There was still no good answer.

  When I got back to the house, Todd was waiting for me. He was sitting on the porch in his tattered blue jeans and red tennis shoes, listening to his radio. He was humming softly to Christmas tunes. When I walked up to him, he just smiled, patted Christmas on the head, snapped the green leash onto his red collar, and headed out to the truck. Christmas did not complain or resist. He jumped into the cab and the two of them waited patiently while I fumbled for my keys, trying to come up with some rational way to avoid this heartbreak.

  It was a very long ride into town that morning. Todd did not once ask me to reconsider our agreement to return Christmas. He just sat patiently, with his headphones on, one arm wrapped protectively around Christmas.

  Today was December 26 and, as promised, Christmas was going back to the shelter. I was never more proud of Todd, nor more irritated with myself. Todd was on the road to becoming an adult. I wasn’t so sure what road I was on. When we arrived at the shelter, Todd jumped out of the truck and Christmas followed, but when I hesitated, Todd peered into the truck. “Don’t worry, I’ll take Christmas inside for you.”

  Todd slammed the truck door shut and headed toward the entrance. When Todd opened the front door of the shelter, Christmas stopped, turned, and looked back at me. I leaned across the seat and reached for the passenger door. I wanted to open it, to call them back, to put an end to this. Again, I tried to toughen up. I had asked Todd to be a man and I would not take this accomplishment away from him, no matter how hard it was on me. So, I just sat, waited, and felt miserable. After a few minutes, Hayley and Todd came out together. Hayley came around to the driver’s side, and I rolled the window down.

  She patted my arm and said, “Don’t worry, Mr. McCray, we’ll take good care of him.”

  “Thanks,” was all I could say. I looked over at Todd. He already had his headphones on, retreating into his own world. Forcing myself, I put the truck in reverse and headed home.

  There must have been ten times when I started to think about places to turn around and go back and get that dog, but I kept the truck heading west until I saw our farm on the horizon. In a few days we would all feel better.

  MARY ANN TRIED to be patient with me. She knew I was trying my hardest to do what was best for Todd and not just what was easy, but for the next few days, it might have been warmer outside than standing beside the arctic blast formerly known as my wife. Todd called Hayley and checked on Christmas and Ruthie several times a day and learned that they were fine.

  On December 29, Hayley called and asked for me. I assumed she was calling about the job she had mentioned, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up for Todd.

  “So,” I said, “I hear that Christmas is doing well.”

  “He is indeed. I just wanted to thank you and your family for all you did. The program was a huge success this year. I think all of the families had such a good time with their guests. Over half the families kept their dogs, which means we aren’t so cramped.”

  “Over half kept their dogs?” I repeated, stunned. “Really? But I thought most everyone brought their dogs back. I thought that was how the program worked.”

  “Of course, we don’t want anyone to keep a dog they don’t want, but if a family likes the dog and meets our requirements for pet ownership, then we are pleased to place it.”

  I was silent as her words sunk in. In my determination to teach Todd a lesson, it hadn’t occurred to me that most people would keep their dogs. This seemed to make returning Christmas to the shelter even worse. Finally, I just said, “I guess I had it all wrong.”

  “No, there is no right or wrong, George. Just what works for your family. By the way, we are thinking about adding cats to the program next year!”

  “Humm,” I muttered.

  “Say, George, I wanted to talk to you about the job at the shelter. We would like to offer Todd the position. It doesn’t pay much, but I bet he would really like it. He’s so good with animals. They trust him. What do you think?”

  What I thought was, I must be dreaming. I was so happy for Todd and pleased that someone besides his mother and me could recognize just how much he had to offer. I had always hoped that Todd would someday have a real job and some normalcy in his life. I wanted to scream for joy, but I just collected myself and smiled at Mary Ann, who had initially answered the phone and stayed in the kitchen. She looked at me, puzzled, and could sense my excitement. I whispered to her, “The shelter is offering Todd a job.” Again, poor Mary Ann was crying.

  “When can he start?” I asked Hayley.

  “Is Monday morning too soon?”

  “What time?”

  “Seven forty-five should work. The shelter opens at eight o’clock.”

  “We’ll be there, Hayley! And thanks so much.”

  “George, just one more thing …”

  “Yes, Hayley?”

  “There have been two families wanting to adopt Christmas. One claims that he’s their dog who had apparently wandered off months ago. They said that they recognized him from the news story that was picked up in other parts of the state. I told them that Christmas was on hold for a few days because the adoptive families always get first dibs. Should I let him go?”

  “Hayley, let me think on it,” I said, my elation for Todd turning to something else. I still did not know what to do.

  “I’ll wait until closing time today, five PM, but no longer.”

  “Thanks for everything. Mary Ann and I are so pleased and we think that there isn’t a soul in the universe that could do a better job with the shelter’s dogs than Todd. You can count on it. You will not be disappointed.”

  “I’m sure you are right, George.”

  “Hayley, I’ll get back to you on the dog.”

  “No problem.”

  When I hung up the receiver I was so excited I hardly knew what to do. Mary Ann and I danced around the room until I felt the need to say, “I told you so.”

  She dropped her embrace. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Trying to teach Todd to be like an adult has paid off. Bringing the dog back. That’s what I mean. It all turned out right.”

  “George McCray, don’t you dare try to take one bit of credit for this. This is all Todd’s doing. You’re still an old fool for not keeping that dog.”

  I suspected she was right, but of course there is nothing more infuriating than being married to someone who is right, which caused me to lash out. “Well, I sure hope the shelter doesn’t need someone to climb more than two rungs high on a ladder or to drive a truck out of first gear.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew the comment was unfair. Rightly so, Mary Ann stormed out of the kitchen.

  Not to be overshadowed by her indignation, I slammed the back door and looked around the barnyard for Todd. He was probably out exploring, for he was nowhere to be found. I decided to get in the truck and visit Hank. He would be so excited for Todd. Besides, Hank often had a way of making sense out of things that were too troubling for the milk stool.

  Hank was down at his barn doing what farmers spend most of their time doing: fixing the machinery that is supposed to make their lives easier. A lot of wisdom can pass while holding a wrench for Hank. He was replacing some worn sprockets on a hay elevator and chomping on the unlit stub of a cigar when I found him. He spat occasionally and laughed as I recounted the adventure of the cougar.

  “Cougar?” he asked suspiciously.

  It seemed that his coonhound had worked out just fine. He did return the other dog, concluding that one was enough.
He told me that Sally was the best equipment purchase he had made in years. Free. I then turned to the subject of Todd.

  “It’s like this, Hank. I want Todd to be responsible more than I want him to have a dog. With this job at the shelter, he’ll be around dogs all day.”

  “Makes sense, George. Would you hand me that can of WD-40?”

  I passed him the can and he sprayed the solvent on a frozen three-quarter-inch nut that would not budge. I continued. “Todd getting this job is a big step in the right direction. Me caving in seems like the wrong way to go.”

  Hank grunted and the nut came loose from the bolt. “Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of something. What are you so worried about?”

  I looked at him with surprise and he knew he was going to have to say more to make his point. I pressed him. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you sure this is not more about you and less about Todd than you think?”

  “What?” I asked again, still confused.

  “Maybe I’m wrong, George, but Todd having this dog or not having this dog isn’t going to make an iota of difference in the long run. At least not to Todd.” He looked me straight in the eye. “Getting the dog would be good for you, George.”

  “How’s that?”

  “George, you spend your life taking care of things. That’s a farmer’s life. You take care of fences, animals, equipment, and plants. You nurture and bring things to life. Like your dad and your grandfather before you, you’re a good farmer, a good father, and a good husband.” He chuckled and then added, “And a darn good neighbor. The problem is, George, that you’ve become so comfortable giving to others that you forgot how to let something or someone give back to you. For some reason it makes you uncomfortable. Ever since you’ve come back from that war, George, you don’t want anyone doing anything for you. Why is that?”

  Hank might as well have struck me on the side of my head with that wrench he was holding. “Honestly, Hank, I never thought this had a thing to do with me.”

  Hank grunted and spat a little more cigar out onto the barn floor. “Would you hand me that wire brush over there?” He passed me the wrench and took the brush. “George, this has everything to do with you and absolutely nothing to do with Todd. Get that through your head.” He spat out one more bit of tobacco. “But, I suppose I could be wrong.”

  We both knew he was right. I stayed a little longer giving him tools and watching his breath condense in the cool winter air. I handed him another brush, a mallet, and a screwdriver. Finally, I knew that I needed to go home.

  “Sure you don’t want to stay for a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  “No. Thanks. I have some dog business to attend to.”

  He clasped my arm. “Good for you, George.”

  As I drove back to the house, I made up my mind. I needed a way to fix everything without compromising and without teaching Todd a lesson I did not want him to learn. Hank’s words gave me the inspiration I needed.

  When I got back to the house, Todd was sitting on the back porch. His radio was playing and his hands were pushed deep into his coat pockets. My legs ached as I got out of the truck and slowly made my way over to him.

  I sat down beside him. “Son, would you take off your earphones for a minute?”

  “Sure, Dad.”

  “Hayley called.”

  “I know I have a job. Start Monday.”

  He smiled at me and started to put his headphones back on.

  “Todd, would you please keep your headphones off? I was thinking, with you having a job of your own now, things might get a little lonely around here for me.”

  “Yeah, you’re losing your helper, aren’t you?”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure,” he said. “The shelter pays better than you.” He then started to put his headphones back on again.

  I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Todd, you know how I have always thought dogs don’t work out well for me?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “After Christmas, I don’t think that anymore.”

  Todd smiled. “I am a good dog picker, aren’t I?”

  “I was thinking maybe I need a dog too. A new helper. What do you think?”

  “Sure,” he said, “but only if you clean your room first.” He chuckled and I playfully punched his arm.

  “Todd, I was thinking maybe Christmas would be a good dog for me. What do you think?”

  He looked at me with a very blank face. I think he was too frozen with excitement to show any expression. He jumped up. “I’ll get the leash! You get the keys!”

  “I’ll get the collar too!” I pushed open the back door and looked for Mary Ann. She was brutalizing some poor, defenseless biscuit dough with a rolling pin. I had a feeling that those little protrusions in the mound of dough were substituting for my own facial features.

  She turned to me and curtly asked, “What?”

  Todd pushed in behind me and stuck his head in between my arms so I could hold him in a headlock. I gently spun him around so he could see his mother. “Tell your mom what we decided.”

  “Dad needs a dog, Mom, ’cause I got a job and can’t help with the chores as much.”

  Mary Ann looked skeptically at us both and tried to figure out what we were up to. “Really?” she asked. “And when did that happen?”

  “Just now,” Todd said.

  I tightened my grip slightly with my right hand and then rubbed a few of Todd’s ribs and asked, “How good can you tell Mom what dog we’re getting when I am tickling you like this?” I strummed his ribs like an old guitar.

  Todd laughed and squirmed and said, “Dad wants Christmas, Mom. He is going to be Dad’s dog now.”

  For the second time in a day, Mary Ann was crying, but this time she was in my arms and I could feel her sweet kisses. “Oh, George, you finally understand that it was you that needed the dog, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, it was me.”

  “Well, what are you doing just standing here? Get to town!”

  I took a long drink of water from a tin cup that I kept by the sink, grinned at Mary Ann, and then pushed Todd out the door.

  MR. CONNER CONSIDERED it unlikely that the dog on the television was Jake, but he would never forgive himself if he did not make the one-hour drive over to Cherokee County to find out. His children and grandchildren told him that they knew Jake when they saw Jake. Mr. Conner told the children that Cherokee County was more than sixty miles away and that dogs did not typically roam that far from home. Mr. Conner’s children swore up and down that it had to be Jake. He was inclined to attribute the Jake sighting to wishful thinking. For, after all, he told them, there are more than a few big black dogs around. But to satisfy his own curiosity, he decided to check it out. Besides, he concluded, the worst-case scenario was a quiet drive in the country.

  Conner smiled and thought about the old dog. It sounded like Jake’s business was serious this time. He had managed to get himself on television as the champion of a noble cause. What other dog could do that? He wondered about Jake’s new family and why they brought him back to the shelter. The shelter manager told him that the family that kept the dog over Christmas had a few things to work out before they made a final adoption decision. If they did not want Jake, then he could claim the dog after the shelter officially closed at five PM. Hayley said he could show up anytime after five but before five-thirty, while the staff was feeding the animals and preparing to close for the night.

  According to Hayley, yet another family was interested in Jake too, but if the dog was Jake, as former owners they would have a higher priority. Mr. Conner checked his watch. He was early. He did not mind. This way, he would have a chance to see if it was Jake, and if it wasn’t, he could turn around and be home before the traffic was bad.

  Mr. Conner pulled up behind an old brown Ford pickup truck that was moving way too slowly, put on his blinker, and passed it. He marveled at the distances between homes and wondered how t
hese rural inhabitants got by without a grocery store, video store, coffee shop, laundry, or deli within easy driving distance.

  Around four-thirty, Conner pulled into the Cherokee County seat, a small town called Crossing Trails. He had to chuckle when he saw that the main street was actually called Main Street.

  Conner fumbled for the directions and quickly determined that he needed to pass through the square and turn south on Prairie Center Road. When the light turned green, he pulled forward and tried to make out the worn street signs. When he found Prairie Center, he turned right, and within forty yards the pavement turned to gravel. He checked his watch again. It was 4:40. He followed the gravel road past a less-than-spectacular neighborhood until he finally came upon an old building that was clearly marked as the Cherokee County Animal Shelter.

  It was time to find out about this dog. Conner collected his wallet and car keys, walked to the front door, opened it, and then looked around for assistance in a reception area that had been taken over by outdated office furniture. Seeing no one around, he pushed past a swinging door and into the animal holding area. Two shelter employees seemed to be in a heated discussion. Conner approached them and waited for a pause to interrupt.

  “TODD, YOU DRIVE to town this time,” I said as I handed Todd the keys to the truck. “Now that you have a job, you need to get more driving practice in, so you can take yourself to work. I can’t be running you in every day.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Why not? Now that you are a high-salaried government employee, maybe you’ll make enough money to have a car of your own.”

  “Do we have to stay in first gear the whole way?”

  “Nah, as soon as we get over the hill where your mom can’t see, shift into second.”