by Jane Thayer
One day Petey, who was a puppy, said to his mother, “I’d like a boy for Christmas.”
His mother, who was a dog, said she guessed he could have a boy if he was a very good puppy. So the day before Christmas, Petey’s mother asked, “Have you been a very good puppy?”
“Oh, yes!” said Petey. “I didn’t frighten the cat.”
“You didn’t?”asked Petey’s mother.
“Well, ah, I just frightened her a little,” said Petey. “And I didn’t chew any shoes.”
“Not any?” said his mother.
“Just a teeny-weeny chew,” said Petey.
“All right,” said his mother. “I guess you’ve been good. Anyway, you’re awfully little. I shall go out and get you a boy for Christmas.”
But when Petey’s mother came back, she looked worried. “How would you like a soft, white rabbit with pink ears for Christmas?” she said to Petey.
“No, thanks,” said Petey.
“How about some fish? They’re nice,” said Petey’s mother.
“I don’t like fish,” said Petey. “I’d like a boy.”
“Petey,” said his mother, “there are no boys to be had. Not one could I find. They’re terribly short of boys this year.”
Petey felt as if he couldn’t stand it if he didn’t have a boy.
Finally his mother said, “There now, there must be a boy somewhere. Perhaps you could find some dog who would give his boy away.”
So Petey hopefully started off. It wasn’t long before he saw a collie racing with a boy on a bicycle. Petey trembled with joy. “If I had a boy on a bicycle,” said Petey, “I could run like everything! I’ll ask the collie politely if he’ll give his boy away.” So Petey leaped after the bicycle. He called out to the collie, “Excuse me. Do you want to give your boy away?”
But the collie said no, he definitely didn’t, in a dreadful tone of voice. Petey sat down. He watched the collie and his boy until they were out of his sight. “I didn’t really want a boy on a bicycle anyway.” said Petey.
After a while, he saw a red setter playing ball with a boy. Petey was just delighted. “If I had a boy to play ball with,” said Petey, “I’d catch the ball smack in my mouth.”
But he remembered how cross the collie had been. So he sat down on the sidewalk and called out politely, “Excuse me. Do you want to give your boy away?”
But the setter said no, he definitely didn’t, in a terrifying tone of voice! “Oh, well,” said Petey, trotting off, “I don’t think playing ball is much fun.”
After a while he met a Scotty walking with his boy and carrying a package in his mouth. “Now, that is a good kind of boy!” said Petey. “If I had a boy to carry packages for, there might be some dog biscuits or cookies in the package.”
But he remembered how cross the collie and the setter had been. So he stayed across the street and shouted at the top of his lungs, but polite as could be, “Excuse me. Do you want to give your boy away?”
The Scotty had his mouth full of package, but he managed to say no, he definitely didn’t, and he showed his sharp teeth at Petey. “I guess that wasn’t the kind of boy I wanted either,” said poor Petey. “But my goodness, where will I find a boy?”
Well, Petey went on and on. Up busy streets, dodging the cars, looking in stores and around corners. Down quiet lanes where dogs rushed to their fences and yelped at him. He asked every dog politely. But he couldn’t find a single dog who would give his boy away. Petey’s ears began to droop. His tail grew limp. His legs were so tired. “My mother was right,” he thought. “There isn’t a boy to be had.”
As it was getting dark, he came to a large building on the very edge of town. Petey was going by very slowly because his paws hurt, when he saw a sign over the door. The sign said: “Orphans’ Home”.
“I know what orphans are,” Petey said to himself. “They’re children who have no dog to take care of them. Maybe I could find a boy there!”
He padded slowly up the walk. He was so tired, he could hardly lift his little paws. Then Petey stopped. He listened. He could hear music. He looked. Through the window, he could see a lighted Christmas tree and children singing carols. Petey looked some more. On the front step of the orphans’ home, all by himself, sat a boy! He looked lonely. Petey gave a glad, little cry. He forgot about being tired. He leaped up the walk and landed in the boy’s lap.
Sniff, sniff went Petey’s little nose. Wiggle, wag went Petey’s tail. He licked the boy with his warm, wet tongue. How glad the boy was to see Petey! He put both of his arms around the little dog and hugged him tight.
Then the front door opened, “Goodness, Ricky,” a lady said, “what are you doing out here? Come in and see the Christmas tree.”
Petey sat very still. The boy looked up at the lady. Then he looked down at Petey. The boy said, “I’ve got a puppy. Can he come, too?”
“A puppy!” The lady came over and looked down at Petey. “Why,” she said, “you’re a nice dog. Wherever did you come from? Yes, bring him in.”
“Come on puppy,” said the boy, and in they scampered. A crowd of boys was playing around the Christmas tree. All the boys rushed at Petey. They all wanted to pick him up. They all wanted to pet him. Petey wagged his tail. He wagged his fat, little body. He frisked about and kissed every boy who came near.
“Can he stay?” the boys asked.
“Yes,” said the lady. “He may stay.”
“Come on, puppy,” Ricky said. “Get your supper.”
“We’ll fix you a nice, warm bed!” cried anther boy.
“We’ll all play games with you,” said a third.
“Who ever would think,” said Petey to himself, “that I’d get fifty boys for Christmas!”
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