The Christmas holiday season has always been a memorable time of year. Whether it is time spent with family, those special gifts from a loved one, or simply the smell of Grandma's cooking, every Christmas has always had something worthy of remembrance. The story of the Christmas holiday which I am about to relate holds a special fondness. It happened many years ago when I was still a single guy in my twenties. One of the things that distinguish it from the others is the amount of snow and cold weather. It just so happened to be one of the worst winters on record.
It was certainly no surprise then when I was sent home early from work one afternoon. The snow had started late morning, and by noon it was falling in earnest. The boss had decided to let us go shortly afterward, and as it was the last work day before Christmas, I was looking forward to getting home early and enjoying an afternoon of relaxation. What I did not count on was the increasing intensity of the snowfall and the length of time it would take me to get home. It took me nearly three hours to cover a distance that should have taken about twenty minutes.
As I finally got back into town the drive was somewhat more bearable as there were nearly no cars on the road. Apparently anyone with any sense was safely inside where it was warm and comfortable. Despite the lack of cars on the road, the drive was still slow as the snow continued to fall fast and steady. When I finally got within several blocks of my home, visions of opening a bottle of wine and TV danced in my head. When I turned the next corner however, I saw something totally unexpected. On the snow covered sidewalk stood a small boy. He could not have been more than six or seven years of age. He was wearing a hooded coat, but it was clear that he had been out a while as the snow was visibly sticking to his hood. Shocked that a boy of his age should be out alone in this weather, I quickly pulled my car over to the side of the snow covered road. Quickly, I got out of the car and approached the boy.
"Hello." I said as I approached somewhat cautiously, "What is your name?"
The boy just turned away silently. From the look in his eyes it appeared that he had been crying, though it was hard to tell for sure with the falling snow.
"What is your name?" I repeated, this time crouching down in the snow to his level.
The boy remained silent with his back towards me. I could feel the cold of the snow penetrating my work shoes and knew that I could not leave him out here. I had to either find out his name and phone his mother or take him to the nearest police station. There was just no way I could leave him here, however. I reached forward and gently grabbed his arm.
"No!" He cried out as he tried to break away.
The boy resisted as he tried to run, almost falling onto the snow. I quickly grabbed him with my other hand and hoisted him up gently.
"No!" He cried, "I can't go!"
He was practically shouting. I held him firmly but gently and tried to reason with him.
"What's the matter?" I asked somewhat concerned, "You can't stay out here in the snow."
The boy hesitated a moment, then seemed to calm down. He slowly turned around towards me. I could see tears forming in his eyes behind the snowflakes landing on his reddened face.
"What's the matter?" I inquired once again.
The boy stood silently in the falling snow. A moment later, he spoke.
"It's my puppy," he sobbed, "I lost my puppy."
I immediately realized the severity of the situation. A lost puppy was a serious thing, especially in a snowstorm. After some gentle coaxing, I convinced him to get in my car. Immediately, I turned down the radio and turned up the heat.
"We'll find your puppy," I assured him.
A million thoughts ran through my head as I pulled the car back on to road. Chief among those was how a small boy his age managed to sneak out of the house, and who might be looking for him at the moment. I thought about how I might find his parents afterwards, and the concern that must be running through their minds right now. But most importantly, I realized we had to find that puppy.
Gradually, as we drove around the area, the boy began to speak. I learned that his name was Doug and that he snuck out of the house to walk his new puppy. While walking the pup, Doug had relaxed his grip on the leash and the puppy broke free. This was apparently over an hour ago. With the amount of snowfall since then, it would not be easy to find him even though I could not imagine the dog having traveled far. But, I knew it had to be done.
Doug pressed his nose against the glass of the passenger window the whole time we drove around the neighborhood. I can still recall his breath continually fogging the glass and his wiping the fog away with his small hands. After nearly forty-five minutes, I was starting to lose hope. We had been driving around the same several block radius with no luck. The snow was piling up ever higher and worse yet the sun was setting in earnest. I was starting to think I should just drive to the local police station and let them deal with the situation.
"Look!" Doug suddenly exclaimed, "Look!"
I couldn't see anything out of the steamed up window, but I pulled to the side of the road fast. Doug ran out of the car and I followed quickly behind. Leading into a small snowdrift was the tail end of a red leash. How Doug spotted it was beyond me. Only a boy missing his new puppy could have seen it.
I followed where the leash led into the snow. There was a small hole in the snowdrift from the puppy's breath. Apparently the pup was still alive. I reached through the hole and pulled out a small brown mixed-breed pup, its fur matted from the cold snow. It was shivering violently, but otherwise unresponsive.
"Sparky!" Doug exclaimed, "It's Sparky."
I led Doug back to the car and put him back in the front seat with the puppy on his lap. I then went around to the back of the car, opened the snow covered trunk and took out an old emergency blanket I kept in the car. After getting back in the car, I wrapped the pup in the blanket and handed him back to the boy. I sat there for a moment and thought of the best thing to do at the moment. Sparky was alive, but seemed to be barely moving.
I drove off and headed for the nearest pay phone. I had an old friend who had a veterinary clinic in the next town. With any luck he would be home and willing to come out in the snow for a good cause. I dialed the phone.
"Hello," the voice answered.
"Hello Pete, it's Gary. I need a big favor," I said.
"Gary, this is a surprise," Pete responded, "Merry Christmas buddy."
"Merry Christmas," I started, "Pete, I have a very sick puppy here and I need your help now."
"Since when are you an animal lover Gary?" Pete asked.
"It's not mine," I answered, "It belongs to a small boy."
"Meet me at the office in twenty minutes," was the reply.
"Thanks Pete."
