couldn’t be mistaken for anything else . It was the crisp clear sound of jingling sleigh bells.
That was the last we ever heard of Santa Claus.
“ A w, come on,” said Melanie. Her eyes were big behind her black-rimmed glasses, and tinged with healthy skepticism. “You don’t really expect me to believe that.”
“It’s true,” said Buck, and shared a wink with me over Melanie’s head. “I was there.”
The room had begun to fill up while I talked, although we were still a few minutes away from the official opening of the doors. Maude had brought young Pepper in from the grooming room , freshly styled and shining like silk, with a red and white bow clipped behind each ear and nails that were painted, at Melanie’s insistence , bright red. My Aunt Mart arrived in a festive “Deck the Halls with Bows of Collies” Christmas sweater and Majesty the collie on a leash . Majesty look ed equally festive in a gold-trimmed red velvet ruffled collar and was still every bit as imperious as she had been the day I’d first met her, sitting atop a dog house in a muddy lot. Buck had stopped by with a fifty-pound sack of dog food that the boys from the department had donated for the animal shelter, and had stayed to repair a malfunctioning strand of lights and to tack up the sagging garland over the doorway. My twin blue merle Aussies, Mischief and Magic, had come in from the play yard calm enough to allow Melanie to wrestle them into Santa Claus hats, and now wandered happily around the room, each with a hat under her chin, looking for trouble to get into.
Cisco had of course bounded from his mat the moment Buck opened the door , slinging himself into his hero’s arms. Buck and I had been more-or-less-amicably divorced for years now, but Buck was still Cisco’s favorite person in the world. I sometimes thought that he knew, somewhere deep in his doggie heart, that Buck was the one who ’d brought us together and changed both our lives. Now he pranced around the room like the gracious host and more-or-less model citizen he was, plumed tail waving, reminding everyone with his ineffable grin that it was, indeed, the season to be jolly.
“Seriously,” Melanie said, “you caught him, right?”
“Wish I could say so,” Buck admitted. “The Sheriff’s Department over in Broward did pick up a fellow with the same M.O. a few weeks later, but something happened with the evidence and they had to let him go.”
“And no one was ever able to tie those crimes with the ones here,” said Maude. “If indeed you could call them crimes.”
“Of course they were crimes,” I said indignantly. “He stole three hundred twenty-six dollars from us!”
“But we received four hundred nine in return,” Maude pointed out. “No one ever claimed the envelope Cisco found, so all the money went to the Humane Society.”
“ The worst part probably was that I never found Cisco’s registration papers,” I told Melanie. “My guess is that I dropped them in all the confusion, and the phony Santa picked up the envelope thinking it was the one that had the money in it. I wish I could have seen his face when he opened up the envelope.”
“All you have to do is write to the AKC for a copy,” said Melanie who, thanks to the Internet, knew a little bit about everything.
“Which I did,” I assured her.
“I never heard any more about the man, did you? ” Aunt Mart came in with a bowl of ice cubes for the punch . “The most peculiar case I think Roe ever had.”
“There was no sleigh in that alley,” Melanie insisted determinedly. She straightened one of the bows behind Pepper’s ear, which had already been dislodged a half dozen times in puppy play.
“Then how did he get out?” Buck queried, straight-faced.
“And what about the sleigh bells?” I added.
“Are n’t you planning to be a detective when you grow up?” asked
That was the last we ever heard of Santa Claus.
“ A w, come on,” said Melanie. Her eyes were big behind her black-rimmed glasses, and tinged with healthy skepticism. “You don’t really expect me to believe that.”
“It’s true,” said Buck, and shared a wink with me over Melanie’s head. “I was there.”
The room had begun to fill up while I talked, although we were still a few minutes away from the official opening of the doors. Maude had brought young Pepper in from the grooming room , freshly styled and shining like silk, with a red and white bow clipped behind each ear and nails that were painted, at Melanie’s insistence , bright red. My Aunt Mart arrived in a festive “Deck the Halls with Bows of Collies” Christmas sweater and Majesty the collie on a leash . Majesty look ed equally festive in a gold-trimmed red velvet ruffled collar and was still every bit as imperious as she had been the day I’d first met her, sitting atop a dog house in a muddy lot. Buck had stopped by with a fifty-pound sack of dog food that the boys from the department had donated for the animal shelter, and had stayed to repair a malfunctioning strand of lights and to tack up the sagging garland over the doorway. My twin blue merle Aussies, Mischief and Magic, had come in from the play yard calm enough to allow Melanie to wrestle them into Santa Claus hats, and now wandered happily around the room, each with a hat under her chin, looking for trouble to get into.
Cisco had of course bounded from his mat the moment Buck opened the door , slinging himself into his hero’s arms. Buck and I had been more-or-less-amicably divorced for years now, but Buck was still Cisco’s favorite person in the world. I sometimes thought that he knew, somewhere deep in his doggie heart, that Buck was the one who ’d brought us together and changed both our lives. Now he pranced around the room like the gracious host and more-or-less model citizen he was, plumed tail waving, reminding everyone with his ineffable grin that it was, indeed, the season to be jolly.
“Seriously,” Melanie said, “you caught him, right?”
“Wish I could say so,” Buck admitted. “The Sheriff’s Department over in Broward did pick up a fellow with the same M.O. a few weeks later, but something happened with the evidence and they had to let him go.”
“And no one was ever able to tie those crimes with the ones here,” said Maude. “If indeed you could call them crimes.”
“Of course they were crimes,” I said indignantly. “He stole three hundred twenty-six dollars from us!”
“But we received four hundred nine in return,” Maude pointed out. “No one ever claimed the envelope Cisco found, so all the money went to the Humane Society.”
“ The worst part probably was that I never found Cisco’s registration papers,” I told Melanie. “My guess is that I dropped them in all the confusion, and the phony Santa picked up the envelope thinking it was the one that had the money in it. I wish I could have seen his face when he opened up the envelope.”
“All you have to do is write to the AKC for a copy,” said Melanie who, thanks to the Internet, knew a little bit about everything.
“Which I did,” I assured her.
“I never heard any more about the man, did you? ” Aunt Mart came in with a bowl of ice cubes for the punch . “The most peculiar case I think Roe ever had.”
“There was no sleigh in that alley,” Melanie insisted determinedly. She straightened one of the bows behind Pepper’s ear, which had already been dislodged a half dozen times in puppy play.
“Then how did he get out?” Buck queried, straight-faced.
“And what about the sleigh bells?” I added.
“Are n’t you planning to be a detective when you grow up?” asked
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