“We’re going to be late for the bus if you stand there any longer,” Sam informed his brother in his strictest voice. But it was hard to make his voice sound as threatening as their mother’s.

     “But she looks so sad,” Philip replied turning away from the fence.

     “She always looks sad. Now come on. If we miss our bus, it will be all your fault.” He could have just left and let Philip be the only one to miss the bus, but then he’d get in trouble for not watching out for his little brother. He sighed. Loud.

     Finally, Philip gave a tiny wave and turned away. He looked as sad as the dog sitting all alone in a dusty patch of ground with an empty bowl and a dirty old tennis ball.

     Sam had to admit that it was hard to walk by each day and ignore the little dog’s plight. It wasn’t a very big dog, and it seemed friendly anytime they’d ventured over the fence to talk to it close up. But it was filthy and it probably had fleas like their dad said.

     With a hiss of brakes, the bus came to a stop when they were still half a block away. Sam grabbed his brother’s hand and ran, dragging the smaller boy as fast as his short legs could carry him. All the kids were already in their seats when they arrived, panting, and climbed aboard with the driver scowling at them for the delay.

     “You boys need to leave the house a little earlier in the future. I might not wait next time,” the bus driver warned.

     “Yes, Sir,” Sam mumbled as he hustled Philip in front of him down the aisle and into a seat.

~ ~ ~

     “I want a dog for Christmas,” Philip announced around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, at dinner that night.

     “If you’re lobbying for that mangy mutt down the street, you can forget it,” Mr. Ford said with a frown. “It surely has fleas if not something worse.”

     “It probably sheds, too,” their mother added. “I have trouble enough keeping the house clean with the two of you traipsing in and out with dirt on your shoes and leaving your stuff everywhere.”

     “But I’d give her a bath,” Philip pleaded.

     “And I’d feed her,” Sam added in support of what he knew was his little brother’s most fervent wish for Christmas.

     Mr. Ford’s eyebrows went up. He waved a fork in Sam’s direction. “For how many nights before you forgot?”

     “Every night. Like forever,” Sam promised. The dog needed fattening up. Its ribs showed and it definitely would be hungry. Very hungry.

     His father snorted and stabbed at the meat on his plate. “Not going to happen. Not in my lifetime.” Then he turned to his wife and asked about the guy who was supposed to come to service their furnace.

~ ~ ~

     On Saturday morning, Sam grabbed his football and headed out to find his friends. He found Philip struggling to open the gate. His arms were full of old towels Sam had seen his mother toss in the rubbish the day before.

     “Where are you going with those?” he asked as he clicked the latch to open gate.

     “It’s been kinda cold the last couple nights and I think my dog is shivering.”

     “It’s not your dog,” Sam reminded his brother. “You just wish it was.”

    “Star is so my dog. Since no one else wants her, I decided she’s mine. Even if Dad won’t let me bring her home, I can still take care of her,” Philip insisted with a lift of his chin.

     Sam had not known that Philip was worrying about the poor pooch even when they weren’t where he could see her. Sam felt sorry for the dog, but out of sight was out of mind and he was busy with a dozen other things. Apparently not so for his brother.

     “She needs more than just a few towels for warmth,” he warned.

     Philip hung his head. “I know. I counted the money in my bank last night, but there wasn’t enough to get more than just one can of food at Wilson’s store. I sneaked her some of my supper, but it’s hard to get enough into my pocket without getting caught.”

     So, that’s what Philip had been doing when their mother chided him for dropping his biscuit on the floor. Sam tucked his football under his other arm and jammed his hand into his pocket. He’d grabbed a few bills out of his secret stash in case he felt like having a candy bar later on. He stuck the money into his brother’s pocket.

     “It’s not a lot but maybe enough for some kibble that will last a few days. Just don’t let Dad know. He’d kill me if he found out I was helping you.”

     Philip grinned. “You’re the bestest brother in the world.”

     That warmed Sam’s heart. He draped an arm about Philip’s shoulders and gave him a bit of a hug. Then he watched for a few minutes as his brother lugged the arm full of cast-off towels down the street to the empty lot that Star called home.

~ ~ ~

     “Why did you name her Star?” Sam asked Philip as they settled in for the night.

     Sam had the top bunk and soon, he’d climb the ladder to his own bed, but Philip liked to have Sam tell him stories first. Philip always fell asleep quickly when Sam stayed to keep him company.

     “’Cause that spot on her forehead looks a little like a star.”

     Sam pictured the little dog in his head. Maybe it did look sorta like a star. A little, bit anyway. “Did she like the kibble?”

     “She gobbled it down like crazy.”

     “I hope you didn’t give her the whole bag at once.”

     “I’m not that stupid. Of course, I didn’t give her the whole bag. I hid the bag under the crate in Mom’s garden shed. I can sneak a little out to Star every day.” Philip rolled onto his side and backed up to curl against Sam. “Tell me a story about a little lost dog.”

      Sam sighed. Not a sigh like waiting for Philip to hurry up, but a sad sort of sigh. He didn’t know what would happen to the dog. Eventually he’d run out of money in his stash and the dog would starve to death. Philip would be inconsolable.

     Sam’s brain scrambled for a story with a happy ending and then told Philip about a dog who liked tennis balls and could fit three into it’s mouth at once.

     Philip giggled.

     Sam went on to explain how the dog collected balls from the park behind the tennis courts and had a whole box of them. By the time he got to the part where the box overflowed, Philip was snoring softly.

     Sam climbed out and snugged the covers up over his little brother’s shoulders. Then he climbed up to his own bed and settled in.

A dozen different plans to change his parent’s minds ran through his head but none seemed likely. If only he could think of a way . . .

~ ~ ~

     He woke with a start. Something was pushing at his back. Sam grumbled. Philip didn’t often climb up to snuggle with him, but sometimes when he had a nightmare, he would. Sam rolled over to put his arm about his brother.

     Philip’s hair tickled his chin. Hey!

     Sam shot up to sitting. Philip’s hair wasn’t that long. Sam rubbed his eyes and pulled the blanket aside. Curled up in the middle of his bed, with a big red bow around her neck, Star blinked up at him.

     “Philip!” Sam hissed as loudly as he dared since it was still dark out and he didn’t want to wake his parents. “Philip! Get up here!”

He heard his brother stirring.

     “Waaa?” was the sleepy reply.

     “Get your butt up here.”

     Star put her head back on her paws and closed her eyes.

     Philips bare feet plopped softly on the steps the upper bunk. Then he was crawling up the length of the bed. “Why did you wake me up, Sam?”

     “What is Star doing in my bed?”

     Philip straightened so fast his head hit the ceiling. “Star’s in your bed?”

     Sam peeled the blanket back some more to reveal the whole of the sleeping dog.

     Philip launched himself forward, gathering the dog into his arms as he fell against Sam, with a happy giggle.

     “Santa must have put her here. See the bow around her neck?”

     Sam wasn’t about to tell Philip Santa wasn’t real, but if Philip hadn’t brought the dog home, then who did?

     “Are you sure you didn’t bring her home?”

     “I was sleeping,” Philip said, still happily petting the dog, but looking earnestly into Sam’s face with a puzzled frown.

     Sam wasn’t sure what to say next. But then he heard a soft murmur and looked out over the rail of his bed.

     His mother, her fuzzy winter robe clutched about her middle, had a finger to her lips. His dad, glancing over his mother’s shoulder, winked.

     Sam sank back into the warmth of his bed and wrapped an arm about Philip and the little dog. “I guess Santa must have known how much you wanted to have this little Star in your world.”

~ ~ ~

I hope you enjoyed this little story and I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful, Happy New Year. Now perhaps you'd like to hop on over and find out what my fellow Round Robin Blog Hoppers have written for your holiday pleasure.

~ ~ ~

Other blog hoppers:

Connie Vines

Anne Stenhouse

Diane Bator

Marci Baun

Helena Fairfax

Bob Rich