The Christmas Dog

by Melody Carlson

  Betty just nodded as she replaced the phone.

  “Now she’s mad at you too?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Avery grinned. “Well, join the club, Grandma.”

  “Apparently my dues are all paid up in full.”

  “My mother would’ve made a good dictator.”

  Betty stifled a smile.

  “She wants to rule the world, you know.”

  “I just hope you’re sure you’re making the right decision to stay here for the holidays.”

  Avery frowned. “You don’t want me?”

  Betty hesitated. Of course she wanted her. But was she wrong to keep Avery from returning home? Was she an enabler—the bad kind?

  “I’ll leave if you want me to,” Avery said quietly.

  “No, of course I don’t want you to leave.” Betty put a hand on her shoulder. “I only want what’s best for you, dear.”

  Avery nodded, but there was a flicker of hurt in her eyes. Betty wondered if she should say more to reassure her granddaughter. But what could she say? It was true that Betty only wanted what was best for Avery. The problem was that Betty didn’t have a clue as to what that was. Should Avery stay here and risk angering her mother? Or go home and face whatever it was she needed to face? Really, what was best? And it seemed unlikely that an old woman like herself—living on a very frugal budget and on the verge of selling her home and fleeing from a questionable neighborhood—was truly the best resource for someone like Avery.

  8

  Then next morning, Betty got up at her usual time, just a bit past seven. But when she went to the laundry room to check on the dog, she was surprised to discover that he was not there. The door was firmly shut, just like it had been last night, and his bed and food dishes were still there, but the dog was missing. Betty checked around the house and even looked out into the backyard, but the mutt was nowhere to be seen.

  Finally, worried that Jack had sneaked over and broken into her house in the middle of the night, she decided to check on the welfare of her granddaughter. And there, in the guest bed, were both Avery and the dog. The dog looked up from where he was comfortably curled up against Avery’s back, but Avery continued to snooze. Betty just shook her head and quietly closed the door. She hoped the dog didn’t have fleas.

  Thanks to the dog’s need to go outside, Avery got up before eight. Betty sipped her coffee, watching as Avery waited by the sliding door for the dog to finish up his business. To Betty’s relief he had found another part of the yard—not the dogwood tree—to relieve himself this time.

  “It’s freezing out there,” Avery said as she let the dog back inside. “Do you think it’ll snow?”

  “I’m sure it’s a possibility.” Betty set her coffee mug down.

  “I’ve always wanted to see a white Christmas,” she said dreamily. “Maybe this will be the year.”

  “Maybe.” Betty smiled at Avery. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear more about what you got for the Deerwoods’ anniversary party.”

  Avery’s mouth twisted to one side. “But I wanted to surprise you, Grandma.”

  “Surprise me?”

  “Yes. I have to work on everything. But I don’t want you to see it until I’m done.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, dear. But I’d really like to have some sort of an idea of what you’re—”

  “I used your list,” Avery said. “And I can guarantee you that I got enough plates and cups and things for a hundred people. And I’ve got what I need for decorations too. So can’t you just let me work on it and surprise you? I promise you it’ll be awesome. You won’t be disappointed.”

  Betty thought of those loud magenta and lime flowers she’d spied in the trunk and wasn’t so sure. What if the Deerwood party turned into a luau or a fiesta or a pirate party? How would Betty explain it?

  “Please?” Avery asked.

  Betty remembered how many times Avery’s mother had questioned Avery’s abilities, belittled her skills, and treated her like a child. “All right.” Betty nodded. “I will trust you with this, Avery.”

  Avery threw her arms around Betty. “Thank you, Grandma! I won’t let you down.”

  After breakfast, Avery remained barricaded in her room. Occasionally, she’d emerge in search of things like glue, scissors, staplers, and tape. Sometimes she would carry plastic bags out to the garage, warning Betty not to come out and peek while she worked on something out there. Avery reminded Betty of some mad scientist, secretly creating . . . what? Frankenstein? A bomb? Hopefully the Deerwoods’ fiftieth anniversary would survive whatever it was she was putting together.

  To distract herself, Betty decided to proceed with her Christmas baking. Just as she was attempting to fit a pan of fudge into the fridge, she felt a nudge on the back of her leg. She jumped and nearly dropped the pan before she realized it was the dog.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You scared me.”

  The dog looked hopefully at her, wagging his tail, then he ran toward the sliding glass door.

  “You need to go out?” she said as she slid the fudge pan onto the lower shelf. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She opened the door and let the dog out, but as she was waiting she heard the oven timer ring. She hurried back to the kitchen, worried that her walnut squares might be getting overdone, which would ruin them completely. But she removed the pan to see that they looked just about perfect. And smelled even better.

  She got out the waxed paper, tore off a sheet, and laid it on the cutting board. Then she sifted a layer of powdered sugar onto this and went back to see that the pan had cooled just slightly, so she carefully turned it upside down and dumped the squares onto the waxed paper. She sifted more powdered sugar over the top while the squares were still warm.

  Finally they were finished. She couldn’t resist trying a square just to be sure. And then, of course, she needed a cup of coffee to go with it. She poured the last one from the morning pot, then sat down to enjoy this lovely little treat.

  She had just finished it up when she looked out into the backyard to realize that the dog didn’t appear to be there. She stood and looked more closely, peering to the left and the right. Then she went outside to call for him. But he didn’t come. That’s when she noticed the hole in the back fence. Had the foolish dog gone off and wandered into Jack’s yard again? She peered into Jack’s yard, which was just as messy as ever, but she didn’t see any sign of the dog. Still, she felt certain that was where he had gone.

  Betty returned to the house and wondered what to do. Really, the sooner she took the dog to the pound, the better they’d all be. Besides, it had occurred to her that it was entirely possible the dog already had an owner who was looking for him. In the meantime, she didn’t want to give Jack enough time to follow through with last night’s threat to call the Humane Society and turn her in as a negligent pet owner. Not that he could prove such an outrageous accusation, but even so, she didn’t wish to invite trouble.

  She got her walking jacket and the dog leash, and on her way through the kitchen she paused to look at the walnut squares. Suddenly she remembered what her daughter Susan had said: “Kill him with kindness.” Fine, that was just what she would do. Or at least try.

  Betty got into her holiday cupboard, dug out a festive plastic Christmas plate, and carefully arranged walnut squares and fudge on it. It would’ve been prettier with a few more kinds of cookies, but this would have to do. She covered it tightly with plastic wrap and hoped that this would do the trick. Then she slipped on her gloves, and armed with leash and cookies, she was ready for her mission.

  Before she left, she knocked on Avery’s door.

  “Don’t come in!” Avery yelled.

  “I won’t. I’m just going next door.”

  “Okay!”

  Betty considered giving her granddaughter a fuller explanation about the missing dog but didn’t want to involve her in what could easily turn into another nasty dispute. Who knew how Jack would react? Would he
assume that Betty had purposely sent the dog to his house in order to harass him? Just what she didn’t need right now. Hopefully her sugary peace offering would help to smooth things over.

  As she walked to Jack’s house, Betty wondered how she might use the dog’s runabout habits to her advantage today. She was well aware that Avery wanted to keep the dog. But perhaps she could convince her that the reason the dog had run away was to search for its real owner. And that the responsible thing to do was to reunite the mutt with his family. Surely Avery would understand.

  Today Jack’s front yard was cluttered with what appeared to be the Spencers’ old wall-to-wall carpeting. Betty frowned down at a strip of olive-green rug. Gladys had always kept her home immaculate, and Betty suspected that the carpet still had many years of serviceable use left in it. Not that Jack seemed to care about such things.

  Not for the first time, Betty was curious as to the interior state of the house. She stepped over the carpet strip and rang the doorbell. She could hear a power tool running inside, whirring noisily. She rang the bell again and then knocked. But the sound of the machine continued steadily, and Betty knew that it was hopeless. She was tempted to try the door but knew that could easily backfire. The last thing she needed was for Jack to accuse her of breaking and entering.

  She considered leaving the cookie plate behind, but Jack would probably assume it was one of his neighbors attempting to poison him and toss it into the trash. And she wasn’t about to waste perfectly good cookies.

  Why was this so frustrating?

  She turned on her heel and marched back to her house. Really, why did she even bother? As for the dog, well, he was on his own as far as Betty was concerned.

  “Where’s Ralph?” Avery asked as Betty came into the house.

  “Ralph?” Betty set the cookie plate aside and removed her gloves.

  “The dog.”

  “You named him Ralph?” Betty blinked. “Why?”

  “It was my grandpa’s name.”

  “Oh. Well . . .” Betty hung up her coat.

  “I looked in the laundry room and in the backyard, but I didn’t see him anywhere. Do you know where he is?” Avery looked worried.

  “I was looking for him myself. I thought maybe he’d gone to Jack’s house.”

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t know for sure. Jack’s not answering his door.”

  “But you think Ralph is there?”

  Betty shrugged. “Or perhaps he ran away to search for his owner.”

  “His owner?” Avery scowled. “Do you really think Ralph has an owner, Grandma? He looked like he’d been abandoned or was a runaway.”

  “Or maybe he’s just lost. It occurred to me that he could have a family who loves him. Someone might be looking for him.”

  “He didn’t have a collar. And you said there’d been a string tied around his neck, almost like someone wanted to strangle him.”

  “We don’t know that for sure, Avery.”

  “Well, I’m going out to look for him.” Avery reached for the door.

  “Wear a coat,” Betty told her. “It’s freezing out there.”

  So Avery grabbed her coat, took the leash, and then was gone. Betty stood by Avery’s closed bedroom door and considered taking a peek, but she knew that would offend her granddaughter. Instead, she returned to her baking.

  She was just rolling out sugar cookie dough when Avery appeared—with the dog. “I found Ralph!” she said.

  Betty peered down at the dog. He was wagging his tail happily, sniffing the floor and eagerly licking up spilled crumbs from Betty’s baking spree. “Where did you find him?”

  “You were right, Grandma.” Avery tossed her parka over a kitchen chair. “He was at Jack’s house.”

  “Jack answered the door?”

  “Nope.”

  Betty frowned.

  “I rang the bell and knocked, and finally I just opened the door and went in.”

  “You went into Jack’s house?” Betty’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Yep. Walked right in. Man, what a mess.”

  “What was going on inside?”

  “Major demolition.”

  “He’s tearing the place apart?”

  “It sure looked like it.”

  “Did you see anything, uh, unusual?” Betty wanted to ask specifically about dangerous things like drugs or firearms, but knew that sounded a bit paranoid.

  “I didn’t get far enough to see much.”

  “Jack stopped you?”

  “Yeah. But not before I spotted Ralph.”

  Betty shook her head.

  “So I snatched up Ralph and gave Jack a piece of my mind.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I told Jack that he was rude and selfish and mean, and that you were a nice person and that he had no right to make your life miserable.”

  Betty held on to a kitchen chair to brace herself. “You said all that?”

  “I sure did.”

  “Oh my.”

  Avery took a piece of cookie dough and popped it in her mouth. “Yum!”

  “And what did Jack say to you?” Betty asked. “I mean in response to all you said to him?”

  Avery laughed. “Nothing. I think he was speechless.”

  “Did you ask him why he let the dog in his house?”

  “I accused him of dognapping.”

  “Dognapping?”

  “Yeah. I told him since he’d made it clear that Ralph didn’t belong to him, he had no right taking him into his house.”

  “I am curious as to why he’d do that. Especially after all he said last night. He seemed to genuinely dislike the dog.”

  Avery nodded. “Yeah. I think it’s suspicious, Grandma. I don’t trust Jack.”

  Now Betty remembered her previous strategy. “But I’m also curious as to why the dog took off like that, Avery. It makes me think that he could be looking for his family.”

  “We’re his family now, Grandma.”

  Betty frowned. “But what if someone out there is missing him, Avery? Perhaps a family with children? What if they want their pup home for Christmas?”

  Avery bit her lip.

  “We wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone’s sorrow.”

  Avery nodded. “You’re right. I’ll make ‘found dog’ posters. I’ll put them in the neighborhood and—”

  “But I thought we should take him to the dog shelter.”

  Avery shook her head stubbornly. “No, that would be cruel.”

  Betty didn’t know what to say.

  “Let me handle this, Grandma. Please.”

  Betty looked down at the dog and sighed. “I’ll tell you what, Avery. I’ll give you until the weekend to find his owners.”

  Avery nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

  “In the meantime, the dog—”

  “Ralph.”

  “Fine. In the meantime, Ralph will be your responsibility.”

  “No problem.”

  “And I suggest you fix that hole in the fence unless you want to go looking for him at Jack’s house again.”

  “I’ll handle it.” Avery reached for another clump of cookie dough and popped it in her mouth, then turned to the dog. “Come on, Ralph.”

  Betty watched as the dog, tail wagging, followed Avery out of the kitchen just like he’d been doing it his whole life. Still, this was not reassuring. Already it seemed that Avery had bonded with the dog. What would happen when she’d be forced to part with him?

  9

  Avery, true to her word, made “found dog” posters and hung them around the neighborhood. But, just to be sure, Betty called the animal shelter and local vets to let them know about Ralph as well. Naturally, she did this while Avery was holed up in her room, where she was working on the anniversary things and unable to hear. But so far there hadn’t been a single inquiry about the dog. Betty didn’t know what to make of it.

  Then late on Thursday afternoon, the dog went missing again. Avery was f
it to be tied, and Betty felt a mixture of relief and regret. On one hand, it would be easier for everyone if the dog simply exited their lives as quickly as he’d entered. Yet at the same time, Betty realized she’d grown a tad bit fond of the mutt. She didn’t mind when he nestled down at her feet while she sat at the kitchen table. And she liked how nicely he would sit to wait for a treat—just like someone had taught him manners. Sometimes she thought he was a right nice little dog. This, of course, worried her—she had no intention of becoming attached to a pet.

  “I’ll bet Jack took him again,” Avery said as she pulled on her parka. “I’m going to find out.”

  “I don’t think you should go alone.” Betty pushed herself up from her recliner.

  “You sit tight, Grandma,” Avery said. “I can handle this.”

  Betty wasn’t so sure. “But Jack is a bit unpredictable, dear.”

  “I can deal with him.”

  “Wait,” Betty said. “Why don’t you take him a cookie plate?”

  “A cookie plate?” Avery frowned. “Why would I want to do that?”

  Betty took Avery by the elbow and walked her to the kitchen as she explained the “kill him with kindness” theory. “Your Aunt Susan reminded me of it a few days ago. And I think it’s worth a try.”

  “I don’t know.”

  But Betty was already loading up a Christmas platter. “I don’t think it could hurt,” she said as she wrapped it in plastic wrap. “And if it doesn’t sweeten him up, well, at least we can tell Susan that we gave it a try.”

  “Okay.” But as Avery took the plate, she still looked skeptical.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “Just be careful.” Betty shook her finger in warning.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Avery was already halfway out the door.

  Betty sighed as she returned to her recliner and the task of untangling an old string of Christmas lights. Earlier that morning Avery had decided to venture into the attic, then happily came down with two boxes of Christmas decorations. After that, she’d been determined that the house should be decorated to the hilt.

  At first, Betty had opposed the idea. She had imagined being alone when it was time to take everything down, struggling to get it all put away before her trip to Florida. However, it wasn’t long before the youthful enthusiasm infected Betty, and it was fun to see Avery enjoying herself. Betty watched with fascination as her granddaughter tried out new ways of using old decorations. For instance, Betty never would’ve hung her mother’s old handblown glass ornaments on the dining room chandelier, but they actually looked quite lovely there, reflecting and refracting the light. Very clever indeed.