Fiction: Oliver’s Christmas

Oliver trotted out the door and down the stairs of the deck into the back yard. He looked straight ahead to the neighbors’ to see if King was also outside. The little terrier couldn’t see the Great Dane, though, and breathed a sigh of relief. King was apparently napping in the garage.

Their meeting was inevitable before winter was over, of course, but every hour it could be postponed was a good one. Oliver looked over his shoulder at the bright red sweater he wore. He could see the row of white snowflakes down the side and knew that his name was stitched down the back in letters of green. Sure it was warm, but King would tease Oliver terribly, and Oliver was already a little sensitive about his size. The sweater would just give the massive dog a massive laugh for the rest of the season.

Oliver sniffed around his yard and found a good spot to answer nature’s call. That finished, he walked around in the two inches of snow from Christmas Eve. It really was more pleasant to be out with the sweater. Booties would have helped, too, but the sweater would be enough for King to howl about.

After crossing his own tracks several times, Oliver thought about going back inside. There was no reason to linger and risk being seen by King.

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