A larger-than-truth story

 Oh, Woolly Night

Tonight as I got ready to close up the kennel, looking forward to a quiet Christmas Eve with the family, a young couple came through the door, with a puppy. 

"We must leave town and we need a place for our little Jaspar. Just for two days."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm all full."

"Not even a small cage for a puppy?"

I let them peek inside the rooms and showed them we were full. Plus he hadn't had all his shots. They couldn't hide their disappointment but were very polite. 

"Is there nothing you can do for us?"

I have to admit that I was tired, and there was corned beef in the pot waiting for me, and while I normally try very hard to help people in need, I just wasn't feeling it. Still, they were so nice, I had an idea.

"I have a barn out back and he can stay in there. There's an old whelping box and a bale of straw, and you can bed him up in there. I'll go out once a day to feed him and only charge you half price."

Now, I kind of meant it as a joke, because no one would really agree to that. But they looked at each other for a moment and then said yes. I grabbed a flashlight and showed them the way. We filled the box with straw and got him a bowl of water and they left without so much as a look back. It hit me then that I was likely going to get stuck with a puppy. Still, I was getting hungry and more than a little chilled. 

The kitchen table overlooks the back lot where the barn and kennel are. During dinner I noticed a lot of activity near the barn. A couple of raccoons scurried in and out, a small gaggle of Canadians wandered in; the stray cat that hangs around slinked into the corner; and an unusual number of cardinals landed on the railing next to the door. A sheep from the Joseph farm down the street even made an appearance.

As I watched, a bright light rose over the barn, bathing it in a welcoming light. Out of the shadows came three people—men it looked like, carrying rifles. Hunters from the acreage out back I surmised. This was starting to get interesting and I wiped the coleslaw off my chin and went outside. 

"What are you doing here/" I asked the hunters, noticing that none of the animals were scared away by us. A cardinal even landed on my head.

"We heard there was a puppy here," said the tallest hunter, "we wanted to see it."

"Why?"

"We heard it's a really excellent puppy," said the hunter with big feet.

The hunter with glasses said, "Yeah, maybe even a champion."

"Where'd you hear that?" I asked.

They looked at each other and shrugged. It was then I saw that the rising light in the sky was a police helicopter. The hunters tossed some beef jerky and a handful of peanuts into the puppy's bowl and stole off into the darkness. The helicopter made a couple of passes around the barn, then disappeared behind trees. 

I opened the flashlight app on my iPhone and shone it in the barn. Two geese were keeping the puppy warm, and while cardinals kept watch, the cat watched mice play from his perch on a shelf next to an old carburetor. I shone the light on the puppy who was snuggled happily between the geese, sleeping.

"That sure is a pretty good puppy," I said aloud, and the sheep glanced at me. "But," I said to him," I wouldn't go so far as to call him a champion."

"Baaaa," he said.

"Humbug to you," I said. 

The gander eyed me scornfully.

"Don't give me that," I said, "he walked right into that one."

I went back into the house for a heavier coat, a couple of Christmas cookies and an old sleeping bag. I grabbed a box of Cheerios on the way out, and picked up a lawn chair from the garage. Then I set up inside the barn and settled in for the night, tossing cereal to the geese and the birds, and eventually falling asleep next to the sheep. When I woke in the morning everyone was gone except the puppy, who was curled up under a half a foot of straw. I figured the kids would be up pretty soon and would be getting restless.

One of the hunters, the one with the big feet, ran into the barn.

"You ain't seen the other two, have you?" he said.

I shook my head. He looked past me toward the whelping box. 

"What are you going to do with that puppy?" he asked.

"He's not mine," I said.

"Yeah well," he said, "we'll see about that."

"Who are you people?" I said. 

He peeked outside, looked one way, then the other, then lit off for the wood line. I looked down and the puppy was peeing on my shoe.

"You're not THAT good a puppy," I said, and he looked at me with guiltless eyes. I fed him some Cheerios and he licked my hand, wagging his tail. I thought, "Still..."