Ruralite Cafe: Published 12/19/02

By Lisa Majors-Duff - News Editor

A puppy for Christmas

"Have you written Santa a letter yet?" I quizzed my daughter on the way to school Tuesday. I suggested the pen-and-paper route after my 8-year-old informed me she was too big to sit on Santa's lap this year.

"No, not yet," she said with an exasperated tone in her voice.

"Well, tell me what you want and I'll e-mail him today," I said, looking for any last-minute changes to her list. I was also hoping to confirm a request she'd made last month, which I'd received the day before and stashed at my parents' house for safekeeping.

"Harry Potter anything and a puppy," she said as she clinched her hands together just under her chin with dramatic flare. "Put down puppy three times because I want it so badly."

"A puppy?" I asked. This time it was me who expressed exasperation. "Don't you think you have enough pets?" The list at this point includes a cat and three potential cat snacks - a fish, a bird and a gerbil.

"No. Not until I get a puppy," she said. "When I get a puppy, then that will be enough."

"You do know what happens to puppies, don't you?" I asked as I checked my rear-view mirror before making the turn on Mineral Springs Road. "They turn into dogs."

"I know," she said. Though I couldn't see her face, I'm sure I was getting one of her famous Gosh-Mom-don't-you-know-anything looks. "Actually, they turn into nice, sweet doggies."

"What else do you want?" I asked, not wanting to dwell too long in the puppy area for fear of her raising her suspicions. "That's it," she said. "Do you think Santa will bring me a puppy?"

"I don't know what Santa will do," I said matter-of-factly. "He's a sneaky elf."

"I don't think he will, but if he does, then I'll know for sure that Santa is real," she said.

Did she say what I think she said? Did she say, "I'll know for sure that Santa is real?" Is this the year that doubt creeps in? Is this the year the fairy tale begins to fade?

Not if I can help it, I thought. Out came the classifieds and up came the animal shelter web pages. Niki's puppy, one that would also meet my qualifications, had to be found, and soon.

But as is the case with most miracles, this one did not materialize from anything I set in motion. It resulted when a little bit of magic Christmas dust was stirred up in the Ruralite Cafe on Monday. That's when Heather Aust, ball of black and white fluff in her arms, arrived with a heavy heart. She'd come to find a home for the beautiful baby she already grown so attached to.

"If anyone wants a 2-month-old pup for free, come to the back shop," the intercom announcement blared.

Did he say what I think he said? Did he say there was a puppy downstairs looking for a home for Christmas? Could it be true?

"I've got to check this out," I told my officemates as I dashed for the stairs, trying to control my breathing.

I felt it immediately as I entered the room. The magic Christmas dust was causing everyone to smile; their eyes were actually twinkling.

Everyone, that is, except Heather. She was clearly saddened by what she'd been forced to do. After just two days, she'd grown quite attached to the fluffy, little puppy. And who could blame her. The dog is gorgeous: a female Snoopy with a freckled snout.

"I need to think about it," she said, holding back the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I understand," I said. "I'll be upstairs at my desk."

Not more than five minutes later, the phone rang. Heather knew what she had to do.

"You've made one little red-headed girl very happy," I said, taking the warm, little puppy in my arms.

News Editor's note: If anyone out there lets this slip to my daughter, may a curse befall you and your entire household. Merry Christmas!

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