Dakota’s Gift

Dakota had watched listlessly as over the weeks her house was transformed from dreary to jolly. A lighted and ornamented Christmas tree stood in the living room; a wreath adorned the front door; sweet baking smells filled the house as cookies and cakes piled up on the kitchen counters; and Christmas music was listened to and sung by one and all.

Now it was the day before Christmas Eve, and Dakota wandered around the house watching her family rushing to get everything done before Christmas. Suddenly Dakota’s two young owners, ten-year-old twin boys, swooped down on her, and she found herself wearing a wreath for a collar. The boys burst out laughing at the sight of her, and one of them shoved a mirror into her face so she could have a look at herself.

The needles stabbed her and filled her nose with an overwhelming scent, but when she saw her reflection she laughed aloud at how silly she looked. It was about time she got into the Christmas spirit!

The mother of the boys came up from behind and snatched the wreath off. “Alright, that’s enough!” she screeched, “I want you out of this house now! And put this back on the door! You’re getting needles all over the carpet! Out! NOW!”

Dakota found herself being whisked out with the boys, and the door closed in her face with an angry slam. “And a merry Christmas to you, too,” Dakota muttered.

The boys mumbled some insults about their stressed mother, and proceeded to pelt each other and the side of the house with snowballs. Dakota lost interest in their game when one of the twins thought it would be fun to see how she reacted to a snowball thrown in her face. Shivering and bad-tempered, she scurried away and headed towards the center of town, where the festivities were as hectic as they were in her own house.

A group had formed around two people arguing about whether they should put a nativity scene under the huge tree in the town square. One person pointed to the cross necklace around their neck and yelled something about the reason for the season; the other person crossed their arms and, through gritted teeth, said something about cultural diversity. On the other side of the square, a little kid screamed when the scary Santa Claus asked her what she wanted for Christmas. And, to top it all off, the weather was gray and overcast, not so much as a snowflake in the air to refresh the dirty slush covering the streets. Everyone seemed to be grumpy and ready for the holidays to end.

Dakota thought of all the carols she had heard that sang of joy and hope on Christmas. “Christmas isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she muttered sadly.

A team of dogs pulling a sled rushed in from across the square and came to a stop in front of the post office. As she padded closer, Dakota noticed something strange about the mail dogs: they were all wearing red, white fur-trimmed Santa hats!

“Kodi!” she exclaimed as she trotted up to the lead dog.

He grinned at her. “Hi, sis! How do you like the new uniform?”

She laughed. “It’s great! And I thought your red and white fur looked Christmas-y enough. Your hat matches your coat!”

“That’s right,” Kodi joked, “I’m getting very fashion-conscious. I need everything to match.” He turned to Dusty, who was harnessed in behind him. She was looking increasingly annoyed as the tassel on her hat blew into her eyes, and she had to keep flicking her head back to get the white puff back in its place. “I’m also getting conscious about my figure. Hey, Dusty,” Kodi asked in a high-pitched, girlish voice, “Does this harness make my butt look big?”

Dakota guffawed in surprise.

Dusty stared at Kodi, then a grin of her own grew on her face. “It’s not the fact that it looks big; it is big.” She kicked him in the rear, and he faced front again with a grimace.

“Ow!…I can see fashion and girl stuff isn’t your topic of expertise.”

Dusty smirked and chuckled quietly.

Dakota kept her laughter inside as Kodi smiled sheepishly and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway…I bet you’re wondering why we’re wearing these hats?”

“That would be one question on my mind,” Dakota said.

“Well, we’re going to houses around town delivering any Christmas packages and cards that came in the mail,” Kodi explained, “The postmaster said he thinks it will up the Christmas spirit around here!” Another wail echoed across the square from a second child who had been scared by Santa. Kodi was quiet for a few seconds, then said with a half-grin, “It’s worth a shot.”

“Mush!” cried the musher after he finished loading the sled, and the mail team ran off.

“See you later, Dakota!” Kodi shouted over his shoulder.

“Bye!” Dakota yelled back, and watched the team disappear around the corner.

She sat still for a moment, thinking. Kodi had seemed cheerful enough; some would say he had Christmas spirit all year round. But how was the rest of her family? Were they doing anything to ‘up Christmas spirit’, like Kodi and his team were? She resolved to find out.

The sounds of chewing and little mumbles of pleasure de-railed Dakota’s train of thought. She poked open the post office door and peered in to see Dipsy wrestling with a torn package.

“Dipsy, what are you doing?” she said in exasperation.

Dipsy’s head popped up, chocolate smears plastering the blissful smile she wore on her face. “You wouldn’t believe the number of people who send candy through the mail! It tastes even better than jerky!” She licked her lips.

Dakota stared at her. “Dipsy! For crying out loud! You’ll get sick!”

“Oh, I know, I know,” came the muffled reply. Dipsy had dove back into the package. “But it just tastes so…” There was a hiccup to take the place of a word at the end of that statement.

Disgusted, Dakota backed up and hoped, as the door clicked closed on Dipsy, that the hound would at least be well for Christmas.

A grandfather clock in a house nearby suddenly bonged. Dakota started, and counted off the bongs without thinking. One…two…three…It was 3 o’clock. Everyday since the first of December, Dakota’s mother Jenna had met with a small group of females around this time to practice Christmas songs at the old mill. Jenna was determined that her group would perform for the canine Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve night. Although she wasn’t in the group, Dakota loved listening to the harmonized voices rise and fall, so she had not missed a rehearsal yet. She wasn’t about to miss one today.

Dakota tore down the street, sprinted towards the telegrapher’s office, and then tiptoed around the mill across the street from the telegrapher’s. A pile of crates awaited her at the back, and she expertly climbed up them and looked down into the mill’s interior from a window at the top of the crate tower. Sure enough, Jenna sat waiting as her three co-performers filed in: Sylvie, Dixie, and finally Dakota’s sister Saba.

“Sorry I’m a little late, Mom,” Saba panted, “Some guy was chasing me around with mistletoe, and it was hard to get rid of him. I finally lost him when Kodi and the team almost ran him over.” She shook her head with a frown. “He deserved a face full of snow. He’s a creep.”

“Really? Who was it?” Sylvie asked eagerly.

“Steele was a creep, but he deserved a lot more than a face full of snow,” Dixie said darkly.

“Alright, settle down,” Jenna said, though she couldn’t help smiling with amusement at her daughter, “This is our next to last rehearsal, and we need to make sure everything’s right. Saba, give me a scale.”

Saba hummed a wave of notes that sent a shiver up Dakota’s spine. Saba held out the highest note, and Jenna harmonized on a lower note. The two voices of mother and daughter rang out as sweet and clear as a bell. Dakota felt her heart fly along with the music, and when Sylvie joined in on the highest note and Dixie on the lowest, she thought she had never heard anything so beautiful in her life.

The four-part harmony cut off abruptly with a signal from Jenna. “That was great! What song should we work on now?” Jenna asked.

“ ‘Carol of the Bells’ is my favorite,” Saba said with a smile.

“Whatever you want, Jenna, dear,” Sylvie drawled.

“ ‘Carol of the Bells’ it is, then,” Jenna declared, and counted off while tapping her tail in time. “One, two, three, and-”

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells…”

Sylvie sang first soprano (the highest part), Saba sang second soprano, Jenna sang first alto, and Dixie sang second alto. The quick, silvery notes made Dakota think of four stones skipping across the water together. In fact, she thought the carols would have sounded wonderful with only Jenna and Saba, but Sylvie and Dixie were Jenna’s friends and they could carry a tune, so they were in the group, too.

Dakota found herself closing her brown eyes to let the song stream through her. She had heard the song so many times before that her mouth moved without her knowing, and the carol flew out of her without her noticing.

“Dong, ding, dong, ding, dong…”

The song faded, and Dakota opened her eyes with a smile. Jenna was smiling, too, but what really surprised Dakota was that Sylvie and Dixie were both gaping at