Dog Tags for Christmas

by Lindsay McKenna

“Yeah, it’s a really good sign.” He stopped the leash at eight feet. Lady was now closer than she’d ever been to them.

  “She’s looking at you, Nick.”

  “Yes, I’m a man and a male hurt her. Did you notice she gives you a nicer look?”

  Smiling a little, Holly remained absolutely still because she could see Lady studying them intently. Snowflake whined, straining to be close to her, but the leash prevented it. “She does look at me more warmly,” she agreed.

  A person walking past them on the wooden boardwalk suddenly startled Lady. She leaped away, whirling around, and scampering down the alleyway, disappearing.

  “Oh,” Holly cried softly, “she was so close to us, Nick!”

  He rose and brought Snowflake to his side. Turning, he saw the man disappearing past the other brick building. “Yeah, but a stranger just walked by, spooking her.” He smiled and touched her flushed cheek. “It’s okay. We made huge inroads with Lady today.”

  “Can we bring Snowflake with us the next time we feed her? Tonight?”

  “Absolutely. Lady likes him,” Nick said, patting his shepherd. “You’re such a handsome dude,” he praised his four-legged friend.

  Snowflake looked adoringly up at Nick, his stub wriggling nonstop.

  Laughing softly, Holly moved to him, slipping her arm around his elbow. “Come on, it’s cold out here. I’m ready for some hot chocolate. How about you?”

  Nick stood back, looking at the blue spruce Christmas tree he’d just set up to be decorated. It was December fifteenth, and Holly was like a delighted child, hardly able to wait until he’d strung the lights around the six-foot-tall tree they had chopped down earlier in the day after getting a permit.

  Outside, the afternoon sky was gray, warning of another snowstorm to come over the Bitterroot Mountains that surrounded the valley. This range was part of the massive Rocky Mountain chain and had been created from the panhandle of Idaho into western Montana where Hamilton sat. They were surrounded by steep, jagged mountains clothed in white winter raiment. It had always been Nick’s favorite time of the year for many reasons. He and Holly had already had a tree trimming party over at his parents’ home two days earlier. Now, they had their own tree. It was their first Christmas together and Nick’s heart swelled with a fierce love for Holly. Since they’d decided to live together, he felt as if he were in some kind of unending dream.

  He understood how important this tree trimming was for Holly. She had all her old childhood ornaments and things she and her sister had made in one box. Over the years, since having lost her family, Holly had made tiny wooden frames painted in Christmas colors, one for each member of her family. She would hang them on this tree so they could be with her and Nick. His heart ached for Holly’s tremendous losses.

  Snowflake sat nearby, watching them with interest. Sue had given Nick several of her prized decorations for their tree. These were things he’d made as a kid in the first and second grades, but still precious to his mother. He’d shared with his parents that he and Holly had decided to live together to see if what they had would work over the long haul. Nick was positive that it would, but he didn’t want to crowd Holly. Last week, he’d moved all his clothes and other items into her apartment, leaving his open for rental to someone else. His parents were approving.

  Life was good, he decided, watching Holly as she began to decorate the tree in the corner of the living room. He’d moved Snowflake’s cushiony bed into the corner of her kitchen and his companion seemed very happy with the move, too. Besides, Holly was always giving him little treats, such as a slice of apple from a salad she was making, or a piece of meat left over from cooking. Yes, she was spoiling his dog, but she also spoiled him with her love. And Nick knew it was love. He’d never been happier.

  “We’re going to have Christmas Eve dinner with your folks,” she said, placing a framed photo of her parents on the tree.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” he said. His mother had closed the diner for Christmas Day and Nick was glad. He didn’t want her working if she didn’t have to. Her husband, Chet, often helped out during the winter season because his tourism business, organizing fishing and hunting groups waned during that time and he could lend a welcomed hand to Sue. Coming over, he looked down into the large, cardboard box of Christmas decorations. All of Holly’s family bulbs and other knickknacks were in there. Going over to her after she affixed another family photo to the tree, he urged her into his arms, their hips resting against one another. “How are you doing? I know this can’t be a happy time for you, Holly.”

  He saw that her blue eyes were indeed sad with memories. Nick would give anything to erase them, but he knew no one ever could. Her family, all her memories with them, would come up at such times every year. He kissed her lips softly, feeling her arms go around his waist as she leaned into him.

  Nestling her face against his chest, she closed her eyes. “I’m okay, there are just so many memories . . . good ones, Nick. Really.”

  He kissed the top of her head. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail and decorated it with some plastic mistletoe to hide the rubber band. She was so childlike in some ways, but it was opening him up, too. She invited spontaneity and it was something he thought he’d lost. Now, being with Holly was bringing some of the old Nick Conway back, she was breathing life into him once again. “You’re my gift,” he told her gruffly, tightening his embrace, feeling the curved softness of her body meet and melt against his own hard body.

  “Oh, let’s not argue over who’s the better gift,” she laughed, pressing a kiss into his red and black-checked flannel shirt.

  Chuckling, he murmured against her temple, “Fair enough. What can I do to help you prepare for tonight?”

  “Help me decorate the tree.”

  “It’s been so long since I’ve been around one,” he admitted. “Doing Mom and Dad’s tree two nights ago seemed strange to me.”

  “That’s because you spent so many years in Afghanistan instead of being home.” She eased away but gave him a swift kiss on the lips. “Now, you’re a civilian, Nick, and you are re-entering life as you knew it.” She became somber, holding his gaze. “In my heart, I think you’re so lucky to have your parents. I’d give anything to have mine back and to have Noelle here with us.”

  He caressed her cheek. “I know that and I wish I could do something to make it so, but I can’t.”

  “I know . . . and it’s okay. Every year it gets a little less painful for me.” She walked over to the cardboard box. Holding up two paper angels that had been colored with crayons, she said, “Noelle and I made these. Her first grade teacher was the same one I got when I started school.” Turning them around, she brought them over. “See? Mom put our names on them so she knew whose was whose,” and she smiled sadly.

  “Where would you like to put them?” he asked.

  “High up on the tree. You’re taller than I am, Nick. Could you put them just below the star at the top?”

  “Sure, I can do that,” he said, picking up the first one.

  Standing back, she said, “Oh, that’s a perfect spot for Noelle’s angel!”

  He smiled over his shoulder. “You know she’ll always be with you.”

  Holly felt her heart break with loneliness. “She was my best friend growing up, Nick. We did everything together. She never treated me like a little sister underfoot. We hiked the Bitterroot Mountains together, we caught trout in the river that parallels Hamilton. She taught me so much, but she never treated me like I was a pain in the butt.”

  “Those are good memories to always hold on to,” he murmured, stepping back and taking her paper angel. “Want to be right beside her up there?”

  Wanting to cry, but holding back the tears, Holly nodded, handing it to him, a lump in her throat. Wanting to move beyond her loss, she said, “I just finished the collar for Snowflake’s Christmas gift.”

  Hanging the angel next to the other one, Nick asked, “Can I see it?”

  Ho
lly moved to her knitting bag and placed it up on the couch. Nick came and sat down next to it. “Actually,” she said, giving him a worried look, “I made two of them.” She lifted up a green knitted dog collar that had the word “Snowflake” in white yarn around it. “I know he can’t wear this when you have him out on a leash, but I thought he might wear it for Christmas? Kind of his decoration for the season when he’s indoors with us.”

  Nick liked the double thick collar. It had a simple loop and a button to close it up around the dog’s neck. “Sure, why not? He’ll look Christmassy,” he said, smiling.

  She took it and laid it up and over the back of the couch. Giving him a concerned look she said, “I made a second one, for Lady,” and she pulled it out of her knitting bag. It was bright red with “Lady” in white letters. “I hope I got her neck size right,” she said, handing it to him.

  Nick grimaced. “You think we’ll be able to ever get a collar of any kind on her?”

  Shrugging, Holly said, “I do. She’s trusting us more and more every day, Nick. I’m hoping that she’ll come to me someday and she’ll let me slip this on her. Everyone in town knows we’re trying to tame her and they’re all for it. Your mom thinks Lady will trust us because we love her. Dogs pick up on that. You know that more than most,” and she smiled, watching him gently handle the two-inch-wide collar.

  “This is a nice, thoughtful gift. I hope you’re right. We’ve gotten close enough to her to see the way her fur is wrinkled around her neck. I talked to the county sheriff, Chuck Dandridge, about it and he said she was probably tied up with a chain around her neck for some time. The chain was probably so tight that as she grew, it actually cut into her flesh.” Nick gave her a sad look. “At some point, I know someone either let her off that chain, or she broke it and ran away.”

  “But in breaking it,” Holly whispered, “she had to tear that chain out of her fur and skin.”

  “Yeah,” Nick answered grimly, handing her the collar. “Lady may be supersensitive to anything around her neck because of it. The way her fur lies around her neck now makes me think she won’t want us to touch that area, much less place a collar around her. She’s going to have bad memories about such things. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Holly said, wrapping it up and tucking it into her knit bag. “Maybe someday.”

  Holly held her breath as Lady, after gobbling her evening meal on December seventeenth, happily came toward her and Nick, with Snowflake beside them. By now, Lady was eager to see her new doggie friend and every day Nick took one more foot of the leash in, so that the Lab had to come closer and closer to them. Lady didn’t seem to mind, but her eyes were always on Nick. He made no moves when she came to see his shepherd.

  Holly had brought a piece of bacon left over from their last stop to feed their shut-ins tonight. It was wrapped in a paper towel. She had completely forgotten about it until Lady, who was no more than six-feet away from her, lifted her long nose, sniffing toward her, and picking up the scent. To Holly’s surprise, Lady came shyly up to her left side, nose almost touching the coat pocket holding the bacon.

  Nick gave her a questioning look. “What’s she smelling, Holly?”

  Dazzled by Lady’s boldness she whispered in amazement, “I had a piece of fried bacon that I’d wrapped in a paper towel and put it in my pocket. I forgot to take it out when I put her bowl down in the alley earlier. What should I do, Nick?”

  “She wants it. Lady trusts you. Slowly lift your hand and pull it out. Don’t let her eat the paper, though. You’re going to have to make some movements and it might scare her off.”

  Holly smiled down into Lady’s golden eyes that looked so much clearer than ever before. Finally, her thick, winter coat looked sleek and none of her ribs were sticking out any longer. “I want so badly to reach out and pet her.”

  Nick laughed a little, a low sound so as not to startle Lady. “A step at a time. She’s comfortable enough around us, especially you, so go ahead and give her the reward, that bacon.”

  Holly smiled nervously and followed Nick’s directions. She had her gloves on and Lady watched intently as her hand slid into the pocket and withdrew the wrapped bacon.

  Lady started wagging her tail. She took another step toward Holly, her gaze on her left hand.

  “That’s great,” Nick praised, “you’re doing fine. She totally trusts you, Holly. This is a breakthrough.”

  Thrilled, Holly pulled the fried bacon from the paper. She leaned down just a little, slowly easing the meat in her hand toward Lady’s muzzle.

  Instantly, Lady snatched the morsel, but instead of grabbing it and running away as she used to, she stood, licking her chops, looking for more.

  “Ohhh,” Holly said, smiling widely, “she loved it!”

  “She’s waiting for more. That’s why she’s not turning and running like she usually does.”

  Giving Nick a stricken look, she said, “But I don’t have any more. What am I going to do?”

  “Try to pet her head. Make your movement very slow so it doesn’t spook her. Maybe she’ll settle for a loving pat instead of a second piece of bacon you don’t have,” he said, grinning.

  Her heart was pounding as she called, “Lady? May I pet you?”

  Lady tilted her broad head, her gaze locked on Holly’s. Her tail was still wagging.

  Holding her breath, Holly slowly moved her hand and Lady stood, watching her. Even with her glove on, she could feel the thickness of Lady’s fur. “Ohhhhh, she’s letting me pet her, Nick!”

  “That’s great. Just keep your hand on her head because I don’t know if she wants anyone touching her neck area.”

  For another minute, Holly patted Lady’s head and softly touched her large, floppy ears, giving her pure love. The dog had relaxed, which amazed her. She continued to speak quietly to Lady, urging her to let her pet her more. The moment she lifted her hand, Lady backed off a few feet.

  “Something’s spooking her,” Nick muttered, looking around. Sure enough, a teenager was walking past the alley. “It’s okay, Holly. I think she’s had enough for one day. Good work. This is real progress. We’re going to start bringing Lady bacon. It’s the next step to taming her. She’ll do anything for that bacon. All Labs are foodies. They’ll do anything for food,” and he grinned broadly over at Holly, who was plainly moved by Lady trusting her enough to make physical contact with her for the first time. “This is an unexpected Christmas present,” he said, holding Holly’s beaming expression.

  Chapter Seven

  December 18

  Holly tried to contain her excitement as Lady loped up the alley toward the three of them, her eyes alight with happiness. Snowflake was leaping around on the long leash like he had jumping jacks for legs. She’d found out early on that because he was a herd dog genetically, he needed a lot of exercise every day. Nick took him down to the Bitterroot River less than a quarter-mile walk from the charity, and threw him his favorite red ball until he was tired out. Even foot-deep snow that had fallen last week didn’t stop the intrepid dog from chasing that ball along the bank of the river.

  Snowflake’s back was even with Nick’s knees. He was compact, swift, and turned on a dime. Now, he was leaping joyously around on the leash as Lady came from the end of the alley toward where they stood.

  Holly grinned over at Nick, who was also smiling as Lady loped easily toward them, her pink tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. “She’s getting so much tamer,” she said.

  “Yes. It’s the combo of bacon and Snowflake here,” he said, laughing. In the last few days, Holly had brought bacon with her and Lady would gulp her food in the alleyway bowl, then come trotting up, say hello to frisky, playful Snowflake, and then move quickly over to Holly, waiting for her dessert—the bacon. Holly had been able to not only pet her head, but now, she was running her gloved hand across her back, staying away from the chewed up area around her neck.

  The damage to that area had been done at least a year ago from what Ni
ck could tell. Lady was still circumspect of him, still watching him, but he gave her no reason not to start trusting him. She was becoming more comfortable in his presence, although Lady clearly favored Holly for many reasons.

  Lady happily licked Snowflake’s face, smelling him front to rear, and then turned her attention to Holly, who laughed and warmly praised her. The dog wasn’t pushy Nick observed. She was careful around Holly, as if she were delicate and might break if she made too much contact with her today. With Snowflake, she was robust, and gave as good as she got. Labs were a very athletic breed, too, and got along well with everyone because of their easygoing temperament.

  “Are you ready to start our experiment?” Holly asked Nick as Lady gobbled the bacon from her hand.

  “Yes.” Nick called Lady by name. The Lab knew her name because her ears pricked up and she lifted her muzzle, looking directly at him. He held out a piece of fried bacon in his hand. Giving Snowflake the order to sit by his right leg, which he did, he called Lady again. She could see the bacon in his hand. And he could see she was torn, but the bacon won out.

  Lady came tentatively toward Nick. He knew he was tall and probably looked threatening to the abused dog, so he slowly crouched. Snowflake remained at his side, unmoving as Lady approached. Talking softly to the Lab, he offered her the piece of bacon.

  Delicately taking it, Lady watched him carefully as she gobbled. Once she got the bacon, she quickly backed off a good six-feet away from him, chewing it.

  Nick smiled and kept talking to Lady in a low, persuasive tone. Her ears were up and her focus was a hundred percent on him. He reached down and pulled another piece of the bacon out of a Ziploc he had in his pocket.

  Lady’s ears perked up. She intently watched him.

  Nick didn’t have to do anything except offer it to the dog, who came right up to him, taking the bacon. This time, she moved three-feet away from him, still alert, but clearly enjoying the treat.

  “She’s trusting you,” Holly called softly, smiling. “Finally.”