Lucky watched her city change year by year until it was almost unrecognizable. Still, all of her street names stayed the same, the endless ribboning hills were always there for her muscled calves to climb, and she could count on plenty of late night restaurant food when she got off work. She waved at Tony, the pizza cart guy, and he yelled across traffic, “No slice today, Lucky?” She smiled and waved, wrapped her scarf tighter around her face, and shook her head. Some days it was too cold to even cross the street for a slice. Besides, she didn’t much feel like talking.
Lucky checked her mail, staring at the long row of tenant names taped on the metal mailboxes. One had nearly a quarter-inch of tape from the stream of people who had lived in unit nine. She quickly walked the four flights to her apartment and once inside felt the relief of her cozy little home. She unwound the damp scarf from her neck, shucked off her snow boots, and tossed her mail on the kitchen table. She grabbed a container of leftover pho out of the nearly empty refrigerator to warm up in the microwave.
Lucky turned on the television, intending to zone out on the news. The perky blonde newscaster was wearing jingle bell earrings and a tacky sweater with Santa Claus on it. Apparently, the station was having an “ugly sweater” holiday episode. Lucky rolled her eyes and switched the channel. Holidays meant nothing to her, she didn’t have much family and what family she did have lived in Texas, hundreds and hundreds of miles away.
Suddenly feeling exhausted, Lucky headed for the bedroom. Glancing out the window, she saw a gaggle of kids caroling down in the street and thought to herself as she snapped off the light, “They’re probably planning to mug people after. Who carols at 11 o’clock, much less ever?”
***
A few days later, on Christmas Eve, Lucky decided to go grocery shopping before the neighborhood place closed early for the holiday. Her master plan was to pick up a bunch of weird party food to keep herself content over the next couple of days while the rest of the world ate fancy holiday dinners. She told herself that buying a bottle of champagne would keep things classy enough.
Bundled up against the chill she made her walk along the quiet city sidewalk. But as she crested the hill by the corner store she came across a group of people dancing around in elf hats and shaking jingle bells. Lucky slowed down as she noticed some cages nearby holding dogs of various ages and sizes and breeds.
“Are these dogs up for adoption or something?” she asked. In response, the merriest of the elves grabbed her arm and tried to swing her into his dance. Lucky remained still, the elf sort of jigging around her, then quickly turned away only to find one of the dogs looking straight at her. It was a smallish, brownish dog, nothing show-quality really, but the fact that it was locking eyes with her made Lucky want to keep looking back.
They regarded each other frankly and it seemed to Lucky that maybe the dog was thinking, “Well, she’s kind of smallish, roundish, and brownish. Not much of a beauty-queen human, I guess.”
Lucky moved closer to the kennel that held the little brown dog. She got down on her knees until she was almost at eye level. “She’s not even a year old,” the manic elf from before sang out. “Can she come out of her cage?” Lucky asked over her shoulder.
The elf, suddenly very professional and calm, came over, opened the crate, leashed the small dog, and handed the lead to Lucky. Lucky and the dog looked at each other. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Lucky looked the elf in the eye and said, “I’ll take her. Can I fill out the paperwork now and pick her up when I’m finished at the store?”
All the elves were suddenly busy, a mass of green and red, as they filled out paperwork, collected her adoption fee, and gave her the dog’s shot records.
Once inside the store, Lucky blinked in the bright fluorescent lighting as she gathered dog food and a dog bowl along with the things she wanted for herself. Exiting into the bitterly cold afternoon, she retrieved the little dog and they walked home together in silence, breaths visible in the air. Lucky admired the way the pup walked carefully beside her, matching stride neatly, and didn’t pull on the leash at all – except once when she needed to do some business in a patch of brown grass.
Once inside the apartment, the dog sniffed every single piece of furniture as she walked the perimeter of the space. Lucky put down food and water and let her explore. When someone walked by the door outside, the dog became alert and looked at Lucky, but blessedly didn’t bark.
They left each other alone the rest of the evening, eyeing each other warily, until just before bed, when Lucky leashed the dog and they went for a short walk in the frigid night, the pup lifting her leg at the trunk of a curbside tree without needing to be coached.
Later, retiring to her room, Lucky realized that she didn’t have a dog bed, so she picked up her new roommate and placed her at the foot of her own bed. The dog turned three times and then settled down to sleep. Cute.
***
The next morning was Christmas and Lucky awoke to find the little brown creature curled against her chest. She watched the dog sleeping for a while and then gently squeezed her into a hug while stroking her back. “I think I’ll call you Dolly,” Lucky said softly to her new friend, who blinked awake at that very moment and licked her on the nose.
Lucky was filled with a sweet protectiveness and had a sudden feeling that this little brown dog would make a holiday believer of her yet.
Alysia Angel lives, works, bakes, and daydreams in Durham, North Carolina and blogs her fiction, non-fiction, memoir, poetry, and personal essays at alysiaangel.wordpress.com. You can contact her at alysia.angel@gmail.com for booking, writing opportunities, vintage RV discussions, and friendship.
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