Christmas Spirit (Angel Paws Holiday) by Taylor Jordan

Author:Taylor, Jordan [Taylor, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Short Stuff Press
Published: 2013-10-21T05:00:00+00:00

~ ~ ~

“Come on pup. There’s a good dog.”

A fire snaps. Wood smoke and bacon. A hand strokes his face.

Spirit opens his eyes. The room swims, churns. He feels only dimly aware of his own body trembling on … something. A floor, a bed, something inside this dim, warm, woody place. A tiny cabin. A man beside him, talking to him.

“Try some of this.”

Hot, rich, fragrant, against his nose: the end of a rag soaked in beef broth. Spirit licks. The rag is removed, then back, dripping hot liquid against his muzzle. He licks again before he fades away.

The next time he opens his eyes, the cabin is lit only by the fire and an electric lantern, windows dark. The man is still beside him, sitting up in bed, reading.

Spirit lifts his head, almost startled to discover he can see.

The man looks up. “Good dog. Hold on.”

He slips off the bed in wool slippers and pours liquid from a pot on the cast iron stove into a small bowl. He ads a splash of water from a cup on a tiny table, tests the contents with a finger, then returns to Spirit.

While the man holds the bowl, Spirit manages to shift onto his chest to drink. More warm beef broth. He licks out the bowl, tries to sit up, but falls back on a nest of deep, dry blankets. More blankets and a parka are piled on top of him. His paws sting painfully and his whole body aches and throbs as if he’s been struck repeatedly with heavy objects.

“You might want to stay where you are for now, eh?” the man says. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t open your eyes. Crazy little dog.”

He sets the bowl on the table, then climbs back into bed.

Spirit tries to curl into a more comfortable position, but covers above and blankets below have him tightly wrapped. Finally, he tucks his head down into the warmth and leaves things at that.

“I thought you were a goner,” the man goes on. “I came out for a look across the lake when I heard the wolves. It’s not often you get to see wild wolves around here. You’re lucky they had more sense than to go out on that ice. Out of the frying pan into the fire, as they say. Not to mention lucky I’m so handy with a rope. Never knew I was, actually. A couple more missed throws on my part and you’d have been a doggie popsicle.”

He goes on talking about the ice and how he is out too early, waiting until the freeze is enough to start fishing, but he likes the cabin and it’s a good break.

Spirit hears no more, lulled to sleep by warmth he has not known since his last night at Uncle Chris’s house.

The next day, Spirit manages a few tottering steps on his searing paws, a careful stretch and yawn, and a visit outside before returning to his nest.

The man tells him his name

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.