SPOTTY AND THE BIRTHDAY GIRL

Liz Kollar

My family and I had taken a long walk from our cabin at Lake Swannanoa and sat down to relax under a tree in Milton, a tiny town which had only one small store, several houses, and lots of horses and cows out in the fields. We carried ham and cheese sandwiches in our backpacks, and father bought root beer for five cents a bottle at the dilapidated store. I wasn’t hungry so I took off to see what all the barking and yelping was about behind the house across the street. Mother had come back from the store in time to see me turn the corner and yelled at me to stay close and be careful of the ominous looking bull in the field behind the fence. Being thirteen and feeling quite grown up now, I felt no fear, only curiosity about the reason for all the loud noise.

The little white farmhouse needed a coat of paint but it sat behind a white picket fence and there were red geraniums nodding on the front porch and in the window boxes under the glistening windows. As I rounded the corner I could see a huge oak tree with a baby’s playpen open beneath the spreading branches and shading leaves. Forgetting everything else, I hurried as fast as I could to see what was in the playpen. Surely not a baby! By now the loud noises had turned into frenzied whimpers and excited little yips, and I watched a tangle of fuzzy white balls of fur erupt into five furiously yapping and wriggling puppies.

My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I slid to my knees to reach through the bars of the playpen. Puppies! Oh, how cute! How fat and sassy! What floppy ears and black button eyes! They were all over me in a flash, licking my fingers with their warm little tongues, nipping me in their earnest excitement.

"Yip! Yip! Yip! " They went, over and over again, wagging their little tails and rolling over each other in their frantic efforts to get my attention.

"My goodness," I laughed. "Such babies! You don’t even know how to bark properly. Oh, my! Hold still a minute so I can scratch your ears."

As I tickled their little noses, one of the puppies sat up on its hind legs and looked at me. He had such an intense look that I could almost hear him ask, "Please, take me with you! Please! Please!" My heart nearly stopped when I looked into his cute little face and saw his expression. And just like that, I knew he was the puppy for me.

He tumbled over on his side and rolled onto his back, paws slipping and sliding as he tried to turn himself right side up. "Here, Puppy, let me help you," I whispered as I flipped him back over. He now lay sprawled on his spotted pink belly with all four paws going in different directions and his soft little tongue hanging out between his teeth. "Oh! You little darling," I breathed softly. "You dear little thing."

At that moment father came striding around the corner to see what all the commotion was about. He stood beside me for a moment, his eyes twinkling in amusement at the antics of the little puppies, eagerly stepping on each other to get to him.

"Oh, Daddy! Look! There’s a sign on the tree that says, THREE DOLLARS EACH. I have three dollars from my birthday money. Look at this one," I pleaded. "He’s got such cute little spots on him. I could call him Spotty. Can I buy him, Daddy?"

Father looked at my flushed and anxious face and suddenly there was that special tender expression I loved to see. He was such a warm and kind person and everyone loved him, but at that moment, I knew I loved him more than anyone in the whole wide world. He put his arm around me and gave me a big hug. "You’re the birthday girl," he said. "It’s your decision but you must promise to take care of him. You’ll have to train him and keep him clean. That means brushing him and feeding him, taking him for long walks in the cold weather and even the rain. Will you promise to do all that," father asked, watching my face?

"Oh! Yes, Daddy!" I screamed in delight and went running back to my sisters to tell them the wonderful news. Soon they were all milling around the playpen and making choices for me. Richard, my oldest brother, thought the puppy without the spots would be the best one because it had a long fluffy tail. My brother, Theodor, liked the biggest and strongest one. He was into sports and lifting weights and he admired strength more than anything. My two sisters were anxious to get back to the lake and go for a swim. They urged me to hurry and make up my mind.

"Come on, silly," said Julia. She was hot and tired and getting more than a little cross with everyone. "Choose one and let’s get back to the lake."

Tilly stroked the littlest one and laughed when he licked her on the nose as she bent over the top of the pen to reach him. "Oh Betty, get this one," she said.

Father said, "Hold on everyone! We’ll let the birthday girl decide. This is her special day."

Mother thought that was a great idea and smiled at me with love in her eyes. "Happy Birthday, Betty! You choose your puppy. He’ll be your birthday gift from us."

Gratefully, I bent down to retrieve the little ball of fluff which I had fallen in love with from the very beginning. He was waiting patiently to be noticed, his head cocked comically to one side as he watched me with expectant eyes. "Come on, little puppy!" I whispered softly. "You’re coming home with me."

He snuggled into my arms without further fuss and after I paid the owner, who had joined us under the big oak, we set out for home. It had been a long walk to get to the little town of Milton but the way home flew for me. Spotty was nearly asleep in my arms when we entered our yard and I sat on the porch swing and hugged him tight.

Mother suggested I think about what to feed him. "There should be some leftovers and scraps of meat after supper," she said. And so I planned to save all the bones and leftover food for him that I could find.

Father suggested I prepare a place a place for Spotty to sleep that night and I promised I would take care of that too. But for now, while my sisters went for their swim and my brothers went fishing, we both fell asleep on the porch swing, just Spotty and me, the birthday girl.

©2003 Liz Kollar