Hunting Elf, A Doggone Christmas Story

By Dave Donelson

A puppy for Christmas! What could be better? Dan McCoy and his capable wife June find out when Santa gives them a frolicsome hairball named Elf, a Silky Terrier on the Christmas wish list of nefarious dognappers who want to steal him in a murderous scheme to win "Best in Show" at Westminster. Elf foils the plot when he brings Macy's Parade to a tumultuous halt in a comedic Christmas adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dave Donelson
• Release date: Oct 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452438252

Dave Donelson

Dave Donelson’s world-roving career as a management consultant and journalist has led to writing and photography assignments for dozens of national publications. The Dynamic Manager's Guide series is based on his work with hundreds of business owners and managers as well as his own experiences as a successful entrepreneur. He is also the author of Creative Selling: Boost Your B2B Sales and two novels, Heart Of Diamonds and Hunting Elf.

Book preview

Hunting Elf

a doggone Christmas story

By Dave Donelson

Donelson SDA, Inc., Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Dave Donelson

Discover these other titles by Dave Donelson at Smashwords.com:

Heart Of Diamonds: a novel of scandal, love, and death in the Congo

The Dynamic Manager’s Guide To Advertising

The Dynamic Manager’s Guide To Marketing

Hunting Elf is also available in trade paperback from your favorite bookseller.

An audio edition read by the author is also available from your favorite audiobook retailer.

ISBN 978-1456315924

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters in this work are purely fiction and are not intended to resemble anyone living, dead, or otherwise.

Foreword

Hunting Elf is the story of a purebred Silky Terrier—Elf, of course—and his companion Dan McCoy, a hapless fellow who didn’t really want a dog in the first place. He certainly didn’t want one that causes as much trouble as this little rascal. Elf may be just a puppy, but most of the time he acts sort of like Groucho Marx at a Hunter S. Thompson New Year’s Eve party. Elf, you see, has a mind of his own.

Elf also has some very valuable bloodlines. He’s the son of a world champion show dog, winner of Best In Show at Westminster, no less. And that makes Elf one very valuable puppy. So valuable, in fact, that more than one ruthless dog breeder is willing to commit murder to get their hands on him.

Elf leads them all on a merry adventure in and around New York City while Dan learns what living with a puppy is really all about.

Some might think I’m really Dan McCoy, and they’d be partly right, since most of the things Elf does to Dan in the story have been done to me by one dog or another. My wife Nora, you see, breeds and shows dogs and so there are always a bunch of them around the house, mostly under my feet.

Let me hasten to add that my wife is not June—really—nor is she Selena Kisco, Marie Carcioma, or any of the other wicked, demented dog people that populate the story. Really. I wouldn’t lie about that. Nora is a sweet person who provided endless encouragement and astute advice while I was working on Hunting Elf. In other words, it’s mostly her fault.

There is a real Silky Terrier named Elf, as genuine as a hernia, and Hunting Elf is based on the true story of how he came into our lives. We actually bought him as a present for my mother-in-law one year for Christmas. I came home from a business trip and let the little bastard out to pee. Elf, then, ran away. Just to give you the short version, we gathered a posse of neighbors, searched the woods nearby for two days and nights, and the dog finally came home of his own accord on Christmas Eve. It was a miracle. Or an omen. After a few weeks, my mother-in-law decided she didn’t want Elf and he went to live with some nice Silky Terrier fanatics in Connecticut somewhere.

As you may know, an audio version of Hunting Elf is available at www.huntingelf.com. I hope you have as much fun reading or listening to the story as I had writing and recording it. If you’d like to share your thoughts—good or bad, witty or dull—about the story, about dogs, or about life in general, please drop me a line at [e-mail]. I’d love to hear from you.

~ Dave Donelson

HUNTING ELF

Chapter 1

Dan McCoy’s fingers froze on the door knob, his hand stilled by an unholy cacophony of snarls, barks, and growls coming from somewhere inside his darkened house. He swore it sounded like a pack of wild jackals that had been aroused by the sound of his key in the lock. Dan had never really heard a pack of wild jackals, but he was sure this is exactly what they would sound like if one ever invaded his house. As he cautiously turned the doorknob, though, he realized he heard only one snarling beast, not a dozen. Whatever it was, it howled ferociously, desperately longing to tear out Dan’s throat with its yellowed, dripping fangs. For some reason, that image reminded Dan of his mother-in-law.

When the cab let Dan out a minute earlier, the house was dark except for the Christmas tree in the front window. It twinkled a wel-come home he was very glad to see. It was late Friday night and Dan was tired. He was returning home from Cleveland where he had spent the last three days running a seminar on employee motivation for a group of accountants. His plane into LaGuardia had been late that night, and the car service he always used—because they were so dependable--wasn’t there when he got off the plane. By the time he stood in line and got a cab to Harrington, the New York suburb where he lived, he had missed the neighborhood Christmas caroling party. He briefly considered catching the last few minutes of the soirée, it was just down the block, but his feet painfully reminded him that he had been standing on them for a long, long time. They insisted it was time to rest, so he trudged up the walk, put his key in the door, and turned the knob.

The noise level went up as Dan warily pulled the door open. He remembered that his wife, June, had bought a Silky Terrier puppy to give to her mother for Christmas. It was going to be a surprise re-placement for the treasured family pet that had passed away that fall after a sad, lingering illness. Esther, Dan’s mother-in-law, insisted that she didn’t want another dog, but that meant nothing to her daughter, who was determined to make her mother happy whether she wanted to be or not. Dan loved his wife deeply, but he had to admit she sometimes stepped over the line when it came to determination.

The insane barking continued while he hung his overcoat in the closet. He left his suit bag and briefcase in the hall and walked cautiously into the kitchen where the puppy was assiduously trying to escape the travel crate where June had left him while she went to the party. Dan peeked into the crate and saw two shiny black eyes staring back out at him from under a mop of disheveled hair. He couldn’t believe that something not much bigger than a penny loafer could make that much noise. The pup looked out at Dan and saw a trim middle-aged man in a navy blue suit peering through bifocals and wearing an inquisitive look on his face. The man had light brown hair peppered with gray at the temples and a jaw line that was thinking about forming jowls. As soon as the pup saw his opponent, he quieted down and sat silently on his haunches, waiting for Dan’s next move.

There was a note on the kitchen counter. Dear Dan, This is Elf. Keep in crate. Home around ten. Love, June. Cute name, he thought. Elf is just right for a Christmas present with pointy, tufted ears and sparkly eyes surrounded by a fright wig of tan, black and silver hair. The puppy was obviously high-spirited and probably playful, and he would look wickedly cute in a little red Santa hat and jingle bell collar, which was the kind of thing June would make him wear Christmas morning. The little puppy sat quietly in the crate while Dan considered June’s note. Hmmm. She probably means he’s a little frisky, Dan thought. The warning note notwithstanding, he wasn’t worried about this cute little puppy. A quick scratch behind the ears and maybe a doggie treat, and Dan would have a friend for life. So he opened the crate door.

But Elf didn’t stick around to get acquainted. He shot out of that crate like a comet with hair. The pup hurtled twice around the kitchen and disappeared past Dan’s legs in a streak down the hall. He skidded on the hardwood floor, made a sharp left turn, and disappeared up the stairs. Dan started laughing at the puppy’s antics, but then it dawned on him that Elf was almost certainly not house-broken. Maybe June’s note should have been more specific! He jumped to his feet and raced up the stairs himself. Dan caught Elf on the bed in the master bedroom just as a robust yellow stream poured between the puppy’s legs and onto Dan’s pillow.

You son of a gun! Dan shouted as he dove across the bed. He scooped up the dog just before Elf stopped peeing and a warm dribble ran under Dan’s watch band. A yellow puddle slowly seeped into his pillow. A fierce urge to strangle the dog surged through Dan, but he took a deep breath and his better nature won out. Besides, they couldn’t very well give June’s mother a dead puppy for Christmas.

Bad dog! Potty outside! he scolded sternly. He pushed Elf’s face into the fresh stain on the pillow, smacked him lightly on the nose, and carried the squirming little criminal downstairs toward the back door. He had read somewhere that the first rule of dog discipline is that no bad deed should go unpunished. In the case of accidents like this one, the perpetrator should go immediately outside while the crime is still fresh in his mind.

Dan slid open the patio door and started to put the miscreant down on the patio, but then he came to his senses and looked around for a leash. The yard was partially fenced, but there were plenty of escape holes for a creature less than twelve inches tall. Elf must have read his mind, because he chose that moment to put his whole four-pound self into a tremendous lurch out of Dan’s arms. The dog’s feet barely touched the floor before he was out the open door and gone into the darkness.

I should have throttled him when I had the chance, Dan fumed. He hit the light switch, but the little bulb illuminated only about six feet of patio immediately outside the door, leaving the rest of the small yard in blackness. A picket fence ran along both sides of the yard, with gates on either side of the house. The back boundary of the yard was a steep drop-off into a rock garden that slanted down at an impossible grade away from the house. A thin hedge along the top closed in that side of the lawn. The hedge line was broken by a gate leading to a stone stairway that curved down through the garden.

A dog-shaped blur sped through the darkness toward the left side of the house just outside the circle of light. Dan dashed to cut it off and their paths would have met at the corner of the house, but Elf saw him coming and wheeled to shoot across the yard just out of reach. He streaked toward the opposite corner where the fence on the right side met the hedge along the back. Dan made a snap turn that sent a twinge up his back. He shook it off and got to mid-yard in three strides, where he stopped abruptly because the dog was coming in his direction! He could just barely make out the puppy’s tiny body moving along the hedge. Dan crept stealthily forward, not wanting to panic the dog any more than he already had. Elf ignored him, though, and kept his pointy nose to the ground sniffing intently along the base of the hedge. Then he stepped into the bushes and disappeared.

Dan lunged through the hedge after him, forgetting that the property fell off steeply into the rock garden on the other side. Fortunately, he didn’t take a header down the hill but sort of skied over the mulch on the leather soles of his shoes instead. Somehow, he managed to halt precariously in mid-slide and stay on his feet. As he caught his breath, he realized that shoving through hedges and skidding over the stalks of wintering perennials was bound to give his nice navy-blue suit a few wrinkles. Just then, the puppy scampered up the hill past him and disappeared through the hedge back into the yard. Dan lurched after him, but his feet flew out from under and he slid helplessly the rest of the way to the bottom of the garden, wiping out a wide swatch of plants and several rocks with his backside. So much for his suit.

Now Dan was mad. His elbow hurt, his butt hurt, and his ego hurt, all bruised by that over-excited bottle brush of a dog. He stomped up the stone steps two at a time. He spied Elf panting in the circle of light at the back door.

Come here, you little bastard! he shouted, leaping toward the patio. Elf darted for the fence, poked his head between the pickets, and wriggled through. But Dan was right behind him. He fell to his knees and stuck his arm between the pickets. Gotcha! he crowed triumphantly as his fingers closed on the pup’s neck. But, as Dan knelt grimly gripping the dog through the fence with one hand, he realized they were stymied; Elf couldn’t get away, but Dan couldn’t get him back between the pickets either, at least, not without dismembering him. As attractive as that option seemed, Dan knew it wasn’t a viable solution. He clenched the wriggling dog firmly and tried to ignore the dampness seeping into his knees while he tried to figure out what to do. There was an airy feeling in the seat of his pants and his shirt had a rip in the sleeve where it was snagged between the pickets. But none of this mattered at the moment. If I can just shift my grip and aim the dog’s head this way, he thought, I can pull him back through the fence. The little pup was quiet and motionless under his hand, waiting to see what the man was going to do next. Dan carefully reached through with his other arm to turn him around and aim his head back toward the fence. As he switched hands on the dog’s neck, his grip loosened ever so slightly. Sensing opportunity, Elf squirmed out of his grasp and disappeared into the night.

Dan was left with his arms stuck between the pickets. He looked like a convict in a bad prison movie reaching through the bars to plead for clemency as the executioner approached. And just like a condemned prisoner, Dan sensed doom as he peered through the fence into the empty darkness; he had just lost his mother-in-law’s Christmas present.

Dan McCoy didn’t deserve execution. He was a good guy just trying to get along in life. His neighbors knew him as a friendly sort always ready to help move a piece of furniture or loan you his lawn mower. His clients not only respected him, they liked him, too, which made his consulting business steady if not overly prosperous. He was good to his wife, obedient as a rule, and he even got along pretty well with his mother-in-law. Dan got into a little trouble now and then, usually because of some half-baked idea cooked up over a beer with his neighbor, Jerry, but it was never anything that couldn’t be patched up with a call to a repairman or a heartfelt apology to their wives. In other words, Dan was harmless; just a guy doing his best to do the right thing in life.

Now, though, he was in serious trouble. Christmas was only three days away and he was personally responsible for ruining the holiday for his wife, something he really hadn’t intended to do. His only chance was to find Elf before June got home. He slogged back to the house in his ruined suit, left his wrecked shoes outside the back door, stripped off his jacket and shirt as he went upstairs, and pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt in the bedroom. Puppies have really short legs, Dan thought hopefully; how far could he get? Back downstairs, he slipped on a jacket and grabbed the flashlight he kept under the kitchen sink. He walked back down the hall to go out the front door and circle around the neighbor’s house into their backyard, where he assumed Elf was cowering under a bush or something. Just as he opened the front door, though, June walked up the steps. The party was over.

Dan gulped, his eyes wide. He tried a preemptive strike. Hi, dear. How was the party? Elf escaped, he blurted as fast as he could. Then he tried to slide past her into the night.

What? she said.

I said, ‘Elf escaped’ and I’m going out to look for him. He ducked his head and squeezed past her through the doorway.

My God, June scolded angrily as he went down the front steps. How did you...

Dan didn’t wait to hear the rest of her question. Get a flashlight and come on! he called over his shoulder as he rushed away. He knew there would be further discussion later. This, his latest crime, would confirm June’s conviction that he could not be trusted to follow even the simplest instructions without close, vocal supervision. But he was used to it. Don’t get me wrong, Dan often said, June is not an unreasonable woman, she’s just intense.

~~~

It was late, it was dark, it was cold, but roaming around outside wasn’t so bad. December nights have the finest skies of the year so a heaven full of stars sparkled above Dan’s head. There had been a little rain a few days ago, but no snow so far this year; the yards were damp but not sloppy. The crisp air cleared his head and his blood started to race with the thrill of the hunt. He went around to the neighbor’s backyard, softly calling Elf’s name and whistling in what he hoped was a friendly, harmless tone. But Elf didn’t answer. He crouched to shine his light under the bushes and along the fence that divided the two yards. No Elf. He searched the other side of his neighbor’s house, working his way back around to the front. Still no Elf. A light came on in the house above him. His neighbor, John Rantze, stuck his head out the window looking for a burglar he was sure he heard in his bushes. Dan waved vaguely at Rantze and hurried away.

Just as he got back to the front yard, someone in the street shone a spotlight in Dan’s face. It was his other next-door neighbor, Jerry, with his wife Theresa, who was wielding a handheld spotlight. More flashlights came down the sidewalk from both directions. June had alerted the rest of the neighborhood and a posse had been formed. Dan figured she told them there would also be a lynching after they found the dog.

The neighbors gathered on Dan’s porch and June soon had them organized. They spread out to search the area. They were a hearty bunch fueled by the excitement of the hunt not to mention the eggnog they had been enjoying all evening at the caroling party. Dan heard laughter and happy chatter between the calls of Here, Elf and Here, puppy echoing along the dark street. Occasionally there was a thump and an ouch followed by a drunken giggle from some searcher who had walked into a tree. A garbage can crashed somewhere across the street.

More lights came on along the block as other neighbors looked out to see what the disturbance was about. A few joined the hunt in their robes and slippers, as much to protect their shrubbery and flower beds from the stumbling search party as to find the missing dog. John Rantze kept them informed of the time by shouting it very rudely out his bedroom window.

Dan soon teamed up with Jerry, who had taken the thousand-candlepower spotlight from his wife and was having a great deal of fun turning its glare on the other people searching up and down the block. You just blinded Dorothy Maguire, Dan warned him as the beam startled an elderly woman carrying a butterfly net. Look for the dog, would you?

Which dog? The one you lost? Jerry kidded as he swept the beam over John Rantze’s windows and down into his shrubbery. Suddenly he stopped and held the light on a lurking figure in a hooded coat. Hey, who’s that? he asked Dan. As Dan squinted through the dark, the person scurried out of sight around the corner of the house.

I couldn’t see the face, Dan said. I caught a glimpse, but she didn’t look familiar.

I’m not so sure it was a woman, Jerry said.

Well, if it wasn’t that damn dog, I don’t care, Dan answered. Give me that thing, would you? He took the light from Jerry’s hand and swept it toward the street just as a police cruiser turned the corner.

Reviews for Hunting Elf, A Doggone Christmas Story

[kateschimmer · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

From the cover art (ignoring the popular saying) and the title, Hunting Elf appears to be a children's book. Instead, it's the madcap story of a well-intentioned but ill-thought out Christmas gift - of a tiny terrier and the chaos he creates in the lives of his owners.Hunting Elf makes for lighthearted holiday reading - one of those books that provides plenty of laughs, as well as an overwhelming sense of gratitude that Elf is someone else's problem.The only (minor) problem with Hunting Elf is the inconsistent tone. Dan, the narrator, is at his best when he's not taking his story too seriously. When he lapses into earnestness, Hunting Elf becomes an absurd story. Luckily, these lapses are few and far between, and Elf can be enjoyed for the absurdist comedy it is.

[lynneinfla · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Sad to say, I found this book disappointing. The author kept repeating parts of the story as if he didn't think his readers could remember details. The story went on forever. The characters were not believable. How dumb could Dan be!! The plot was thin. There were lots of unnecessary details, as if the author had read a book on how to write fiction and then tried to follow the directions by giving lots of graphic information. Nothing was left to the imagination.

[thegoldenpen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Hunting Elf is a delightful tale about a silky terrier named Elf who is dog napped by breeders in a dog show. I can imagine the lead character, Dan McCoy, played by Ed Rooney, the principal in Ferris Buller Day Off. What would make the book even better would be some illustrations. This is a children's book, no doubt.....but one that can be enjoyed by all ages. The font is large enough for any child to read it. Elf isn't just a tiny, silky Terrier, though...he's the son of a famous Champion Show Dog . I enjoyed this book very much. This is a book to read at any age.This is a light-hearted holiday read!

[pedice · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I loved this book. Elf is like so many dogs, including one of my own. I enjoy reading books from a dogs point of view.Even though there were murders throughout the book, you really don't know it. Elf is more than charming and I would own him in a heartbeat.

[toniwi · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I was laughing out loud within a few pages. The story surrounds a rambunctious puppy named Elf. Elf is purchased as a Christmas present, but bring a whole lot of baggage with him. Hunting Elf is full of crazy people. Elf has other plans. He wants to stay with his half trained humans. The characters are likable but a little too crazy to be believable. Fortunately t he writing and fast pace of the story makes up for that. Hunting Elf is more of a mystery than a Christmas story and can easily be read anytime. I'm not normally a mystery person, but the story was so funny, that I couldn't stop reading. The story may not be very believable, but it is still worthwhile read. Hunting Elf can be easily be read by Tweens and adults.

[kssunflower_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Hunting Elf by Dave Donelson is many things: an entertaining, witty, well-paced book that will have you laughing at the interaction between man and dog. It is also a well-written light amateur sleuth mystery. I laughed out loud at several points in the plot.However, it is by no means a children's book unless your child is a cynical middle-aged adult. After reading the PDF version of the book I came across the web page for the audio download version of the book and came across the following disclaimer by the author stating that Hunting Elf:“ . . . contains a little semi-strong language and some allusions to adult activity, so you might want to listen to the podcast before sharing it with children.”If you consider “crap, hell, ass, bastard” or similar words to be only semi-strong language, then by all means read this book to your children as you tuck them in or let them listen to the book with their friends. If you consider the following points to be mild allusions to “adult activity,” then, by all means, let the kiddies enjoy the book and learn to model after the characters. Within its pages (or on the audio version), your children can learn about “adult activities” such as:1. a bisexual betraying his homosexual partner by having sex with a female dog breeder with the primary intent of using the sex tapes he is making of their trysts so he can blackmail her;2. dog breeders so intent upon capturing a prospective stud dog that they will commit murder; 3. a widowed mother-in-law who uses her new freedom to hit the gambling tables;4. neighbors who love getting sloshed before caroling or hunting down the missing dog;' or.5. having Christmas described as the “annual rite of exchanging gadgets and ill-chosen articles of clothing” or Christmas “. . . is a holiday that most often disappoints.” (hence, the cynical middle-aged reader as a primary audience).Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Donelson is a talented writer, and this book is a good read. However, do not get taken in by the cute canine illustration on its cover. This is not a book for young children. I would not even recommend it for young adolescents and I am no prude. I simply suggest that you want to be very sure your children are ready to tackle the “adult” language, activities, and attitudes.I love well-conceived and executed children's books. It is often said that writing for children is more difficult than writing for adults, and so it should be. Children are impressionable; they should be exposed to the best language and ideals we can offer to them. Books should lift their expectations, broaden their horizons and inspire them.While Hunting Elf is fine for adults, it is not suitable, in my opinion, for children. I will recommend this book to other adults, but I cannot, in good conscience, recommend it as either an audio book or hard text book suitable for children, and I am somewhat disappointed that its adorable cover art will confuse some parents as to its intended audience. The author's rather vague disclaimer aside, perhaps the book needs new cover art and a slightly different slant to to its PR campaign.Enjoy this book, but think twice before sharing it with the kiddies unless you are prepared to discuss words, concepts and activities best reserved for more mature audiences.

[smmorris_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Elf is a purebred Silky Terror, I mean Terrier, who is the last son of a world famous champion show dog. When the breeder dies a mysterious death, her husband sells the entire litter, including Elf, to people wanting pets. Three local breeders/dog show fanciers want Elf for his bloodline. Instead he goes home with June McCoy who intends on giving Elf to her mother for Christmas. June's mother doesn't want to care for a dog, but that's OK because Elf has taken off. And so begins the adventures of Elf.Elf’s main human is Dan McCoy, June’s husband. Dan doesn’t want a dog especially one like Elf. Elf has a tendency to lift his leg where and when he pleases and eat things that end up returning to the carpet for Dan to step in. Breeders, Selena Kisco and Marie Carcioma, and handler Bruce Rose want Elf for stud services and decide to use any means necessary to get him. Throw in TV detective and neighbor Jerry, new age dimwit brother-in-law Edgar, an exasperated Officer Miller and clueless dog trainer Martin into the mix and you have a delightful story for any time of the year.This is really a fun book to read. Author Dave Donelson’s characters are well-rounded and full of life. I don’t recall the story stalling at any point. There is one scene that felt forced and was a little confusing. **SPOILER** Several lady senior citizens rip open June’s convertible trying to rescue Elf from what they feel is a dangerously hot car (Elf was waiting in the car while June and Dan had breakfast in a restaurant). There was no clue to the weather being hot or humid, just a few nutty ladies who apparently like destroying other people’s cars. Dan tries to intercede as the ladies rip off the top and throw large rocks at the windows and Dan. I thought one of those ladies was Marie Carcioma from the description but was wrong (the confusing part). In the end, Elf bolts away only to be . . .Hunting Elf s light-hearted story will keep you glued to the pages. Elf is a sweetheart and smart, very smart. He’ll keep you in stitches with his antics. If you ever thought you trained your pet this story will fill you in on the truth. Hunting Elf, a doggone Christmas story is a good read any time of the year.

[ivanahruba-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Hunting Elf, a doggone Christmas story by Dave Donelson is a delightfully amusing whodunit set in suburban New York. Prize-winning dogs, demented dog breeders and well-meaning dog owners slash would be detectives feature heavily in this humorous caper which centers around Elf, a purebred Silky Terrier puppy with seriously desirable lineage, a couple of crazy old bags who will stop at nothing to get him, and Dan, Elf’s hapless human, who just wants to be left in peace at Christmas time. But ‘tis NOT the season to be jolly when Elf runs away on an exploratory adventure around the suburb, leaving the hapless Dan and his posse of equally hapless friends to ‘hunt’ him down. The plot thickens with the arrival of Elf’s stalkers - two dog breeders with one thing in mind - to dognap Elf in order to breed prize-winning terriers for profit and glory. In show dog circles the ladies are well-known enemies, with a long history of rivalry between them, a point which goes unnoticed when bodies of dog-involved individuals begin to turn up after an encounter with Elf. Three murders later, Dan and his friends are on the case, busy chasing slippery dognappers who are busy chasing the even more slippery Elf who’s busy chasing anything that moves, leading everyone on a merry-go-round likely to end up badly for some and worse for others. But all good things must come to an end. The bad guys get their just deserts and Elf is returned safely home, just in time to celebrate Christmas.Well-written and compelling, the story moves along at a steady pace, allowing the reader time to absorb the action (of which there is plenty) without feeling overwhelmed by it. Donelson’s comic timing is faultless; there are ‘laugh out loud’ passages throughout the story as well as many witty descriptions. Donelson does particularly well with his descriptions of Elf’s dog behavior, which he brings to life in vivid detail and with a good dose of humor. The tale is peppered with odd ball characters who add to the general sense of hilarity; Dan’s other-worldly brother-in-law Edgar and the seriously teenage pet shop attendant Moonrat among the most memorable. Hunting Elf is a funny and very enjoyable read. Thoroughly recommend it.