Page 1 of Here Comes Santa Paws

Chapter 1

Elias

“Spin for me, Prancer. Good boy!”The enthusiastic Wheaten Terrier barked eagerly, then caught the treat I tossed in his mouth.

Blitzen, the bulldog with a monocle-like marking around his left eye, snagged the shoelace of my Converse as he nudged his underbite against my foot. “Looking dapper as always.” He barked once in obvious confirmation. “Sit. Good boy.” I rewarded the adorable guy with a treat.

Prancer and Blitzen raced around the outdoor area behind Santa’s Helpers Animal Shelter with a half-dozen other dogs for their afternoon playtime.

We had a full house heading into the Christmas Falls Festival season. Our cozy Illinois hamlet, about four hours from Chicago, welcomed a flood of tourists to celebrate the festive season. Some of them, as well as locals, chose this time of year to add a furry member to their family.

Joy, our new Pitbull puppy arrival, plopped onto the pea gravel at my feet and rolled onto her back. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth as she wiggled her body. How could I deny her belly rubs? I crouched and rubbed my palm across the short hair on her tummy.

“The festival starts this week. You know what that means? It’s our busiest time of the year. I’m sure all of you will find a home by the new year.” She licked my hand when I reached to scratch her ear.

When I’d taken over as the shelter director four years ago, I’d worried the high adoption numbers came from tourists getting caught by the spirit and spontaneously choosing to adopt an animal as a gift. I wasn’t a fan of adoptions on a whim. Fortunately, I quickly learned that many tourists planned their trip around adopting a pet and used their time enjoying the festival to meet the animals and make thoughtful choices.

Christmas had always been my favorite holiday, but there was nothing like spending it in a Christmas-obsessed town. The festival season was full of events, from a tree lighting to ice sculpture demos to an Arts and Crafts Fair to a gingerbread house contest—and everything in between. It was like living in a Hallmark movie.

After giving Joy a treat for her best effort to sit, I left the dogs under the supervision of my fabulous volunteer and right-hand human, Nancy, to check on Carol. I’d kept her in a private kennel since she’d been found wandering a neighborhood, unchipped, and brought in after Halloween. In the weeks since, she’d been standoffish and anxious.

I walked down a hallway of kennels until I reached hers at the far end. A construction paper wreath withCarolscrawled in purple crayon hung next to the door. It was so sweet of the local elementary kids to make those for us.

“Good morning, Carol. How are you?” She scooted to the far corner as I let myself into her space and sat in the corner. She was a large Bernese Mountain Dog and Labrador mix with caramel-colored legs, white paws, and a black back. Her face had a white stripe down the middle, caramel cheeks and eyebrows, and black everywhere else.

I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but it was a difficult balance between socializing and trying to prepare pets for adoption. She also had a grumpy streak, which had been my personal catnip since I was a little kid, determined to win over the grouchy librarian.

To keep getting her used to my presence, I read emails aloud to her from my phone.

“I got the dogs put up,” Nancy said as she approached. “Still not responding?” She smiled warmly at me.

Despite how often I offered to find a way to pay her, she insisted on donating her time. She called it her retirement hobby. Her gray hair was pulled back into a bun and her dark-olive skin was flushed like it usually got after she played with the dogs.

“Nope, but we’ve got time. Maybe she’ll warm up to me after the holidays when it’s quieter here.”

She pulled a familiar biscuit from her apron. Even grumpy Carol couldn’t resist the peanut pumpkin bites made by Hank, the hockey director at the community center who moonlighted with a dog treat business called Bailey’s Dog Treats. I reached out to accept the biscuit from Nancy.

“Nancy brought you a treat.” Carol’s ears twitched, but she kept her distance. I tossed it toward her, then let myself out.

“She’ll be okay.” Nancy patted my back.

“I hope so. I know she’s stressed around all these animals, but since there’s no one available to foster her, I don’t have another option.”

“Don’t you mean no one who meets your qualifications?”

I laughed. “She needs a certain fit, and anyone I’d approve to take her already has a full house.”

“You’ve got a big heart.”

“Yours is bigger.”

She waved me off and smiled. “Two volunteers are coming in to help assemble more adoption goodie bags.”

“That’s perfect. All the flea medicine doses should arrive today too. Those are always a hit.”

I gave Carol one last look before Nancy and I moved to my office and continued discussing our preparation for all the adoptions we anticipated in the coming weeks. After confirming the volunteer schedule to help manage the influx of shelter visitors, we shifted to going over our participation in the festival events.

“Is Jasmyn still taking photos at the Santa Claws Pet Pics & Adoption event?”

---