The Year the Dog Ate Christmas

By Marilee Brothers

A turkey ready for the oven, an open back door and a smiling dog with issues morphed into the perfect storm that resulted in a Christmas I’ll never forget. I was eight years old. A light snow was falling. Up and down the street, Christmas lights were aglow.

The family dog, Katie, was a svelte Chesapeake Bay Retriever who, when nervous or embarrassed would curl her upper lip back in a fearful grimace, revealing razor-sharp teeth. My dad always said, “Look, Katie’s smiling.” Dad, a fervent dog lover, had rescued Katie from a farmer who kept her chained up, fed her very little and occasionally kicked her in the ribs. Hence, her issues. Even well fed and loved, Katie always worried her next meal wouldn’t arrive on schedule.

A plump turkey, crammed to its neck hole with bread stuffing sat on the counter while the oven pre-heated. Mom left the turkey unattended and went to the basement to fetch potatoes. Our family kept fresh vegetables and canned goods in a dark, dank cubicle euphemistically dubbed The Fruit Room. A word about The Fruit Room. It scared me to death.  It was full of creepy spider webs and, where there are creepy spider webs, there had to be vicious, girl-eating spiders just waiting for an opportunity to chomp down on my exposed flesh. So relieved was I that my mother hadn’t made me go to The Fruit Room, I threw the back door open to see if the snow was still falling. Katie bounded through the open door, reared up on her hind legs, snagged the turkey off the counter and dashed outside.

“Oh, no!” I wailed. Despite my bare feet, I gave chase, following the trail of bread stuffing to the doghouse. The loud chomping sounds emanating from within confirmed what I already suspected. I was too late. Katie must have heard me approach because her head popped through the opening, the half-eaten turkey clenched in her jaws.

“Bad dog, Katie,” I scolded, hopping up and down on my semi-frozen feet. Looking ashamed, she dropped the carcass and gave me a big toothy smile.

No turkey dinner for us that Christmas. Back in the day (yes, I’m old) every store was locked and shuttered on Christmas day. No 7-11’s. No Quickie Marts. No fast food opportunities. So, it was hot dogs and canned peaches for dinner. Katie was forgiven and invited inside.

By the way, I still have nightmares about The Fruit Room.

Do you have any favorite memories of a special Christmas? Please share!