THE COLLIES OF CHRISTMAS

By ACE MASK and CINDY ALVARADO

Five memorable short stories of collies and the lives they touch at Christmas, including:

SEBASTIAN AND THE THREE KINGS - A compassionate collie teaches a little homeless dog the meaning of Christmas.

THE SHEPHERD'S GIFT - In the Highlands of late 19th century Scotlan

• Language: English
• Publisher: ACE MASK
• Release date: Nov 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781087921785

ACE MASK

ACE MASK is an actor and voice-over artist and a strong advocate for the use of therapy dogs. The fictionalized events in "Gentle Hero" are based on programs in which he and his collies participate, including work on behalf of the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department. A Vietnam veteran, he lives in Southern California with his wife Donna and their three collies.

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 Ace Mask

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 0-578-75934-9

ISBN-13: 978-0-578-75934-0

ISBN: 978-1-087-92178-5 (ebook)

https://www.facebook.com/colliesofheathercircle

Cover Art: Cindy Alvarado

etsy.com/shop/pawprintsportfolio

In Memorium

KANE

(2008-2020)

The collie who changed my life.

We have loved many dogs before

and will love many more,

but there can be none to equal

our boy Kane.

CONTENTS

SEBASTIAN AND THE THREE KINGS

THE SHEPHERD’S GIFT

THE CHRISTMAS DRESS

ALL THE GUNS FELL SILENT

A DREAM FOR CHRISTMAS

AFTERWORD

SEBASTIAN AND THE THREE KINGS

Slowed by age, the elderly homeless man’s pace that morning was sufficient for Sebastian’s short legs to keep up as he was towed along by a thin, frayed, cotton rope. The two were perfect companions, and they had become inseparable since the day the man had spotted the little shih tzu trotting along the concrete riverbed south of downtown Los Angeles, seemingly without a care in the world, confident and happy.

The old man wondered how the little guy could maintain such an upbeat attitude. The dog likely had no idea where or when he would find his next meal, he couldn’t know what danger might lie around the next corner and there didn’t appear to be anyone to care for him or to give him a bit of love. Those were all concerns the man had to cope with himself daily, and he asked himself if he would be doing the dog any favor by taking him on as a partner.

Well, he thought, maybe we could face the daily uncertainties of life together.

The only thing that would not remain uncertain, as it turned out, was love. All of the hardships they confronted grew greater each day, but his love for the small dog was far stronger than all of the physical adversity they had to endure.

He named the dog Sebastian, but he had no idea where the name came from. It simply popped into his head. It seemed a perfect big dog name for a little dog to grow into, and the dog perked up the first time the man used it. In fact, Sebastian took to the name so quickly, the man wondered if that had been his name all along.

Today, as they walked along the sidewalk that meandered through an undistinguished suburban area, the man’s body bent over the handle of an overloaded shopping cart full of salvaged junk that he pushed ahead of him, his thoughts pointed toward an even darker future than he had ever contemplated before. He was not getting any younger, and he could find no one who would hire him at his age. Even the fast-food businesses were wary. A homeless man? Probably an alcoholic or a drug addict. Unreliable. A week’s wages at one of those businesses wouldn’t be enough to pay for more than a night’s lodging at even the cheapest motel.

The charity organizations had often been there to help with the occasional meal and bed, but that had been on an extremely limited basis. Now, during the Christmas season, they had been overwhelmed with the indigent, and the number of underprivileged had grown unmanageable. Also, he hated to submit to charity. Even in his predicament he still had a sense of pride.

The lack of nourishment in recent days was now affecting his ability to think. At times his mind simply tuned out, and he would have to shake his head to clear his senses, often finding he’d been wandering aimlessly, the little dog still at his side, looking up at him with curiosity. He adjusted the old, dark, soiled, badly worn Stetson on his head as he shambled beneath a freeway overpass. He wasn’t even certain where he was or where he was headed, and he hardly even noticed the intense cold that numbed his ears and nose.

His attention was abruptly aroused by the sight of two white, fast-food paper sacks blowing about on the sidewalk ahead of him. A thin, yellow sandwich wrapper poked out of the top of the larger of the two bags and waved to him like a flag, signaling to him in the breeze. He leaned down slowly, managing the sharp pain that cut through his back and gathered up the bag, rummaging through its contents.

Momentarily forgotten, Sebastian pulled at his makeshift leash and poked his head inside the smaller bag that remained. Until now, his presence had been a comfort to the old man, despite the additional responsibility a dog’s companionship might have been to one in such dire straits. But Sebastian never demanded, and he seemed content to accept what meager nourishment the two comrades could scrounge with gratitude and contentment.

Inside his bag, Sebastian found only an empty paper coffee cup, and he lapped at the small stream of liquid that dribbled out.

The old man found that only paper wrappers remained in the bag he was examining, bearing traces of grease, breadcrumbs and small dabbles of cheese that had dripped from a burger that had been completely consumed.

Warily, he tossed the bag aside, then dragged himself onward, glum and directionless. Sebastian trotted alongside.

Their wandering led them off of the larger street they had been traveling onto a smaller road that wound through a sprawling suburban neighborhood, composed of one and two-story middle-class homes fronted by green, well-kept lawns.

Sebastian had never seen anything like it. Everything was clean. There was no paper or used Styrofoam scattered on the street. There were no spray-painted symbols on the walls and fences. No one was camped out between the buildings, sleeping beneath shelters made of sheets of canvas and plastic. There was no sign of life at all outside the houses.

Sure, it was still a bit early in the morning, but he thought he should have seen some sort of activity. Also, it seemed unusually quiet save for the occasional barking of a dog here and there, echoing from behind a gated back yard as they passed.

There was something else, something that seemed far more peculiar to the little dog. Many of the front yards were adorned with bright, colorful decorations and lights, many, many lights. Beautiful ornamentation was everywhere he looked. Peculiar-looking animals proudly sprouting multi-prong horns on their heads pulled elaborately designed sleds whose sole purpose, it seemed, was simply to look pretty. Here was the figure of a heavyset man with a full, white beard, dressed for winter in a suit trimmed in white fur. Over there was a small, strangely dressed character with pointed ears, who assisted the bearded man with delightfully wrapped boxes.

Sebastian had to stop to inspect a scene laid out on the lawn in front of one home because it was so different from the others. Feeling the tug at the other end of the leash, the old man allowed him. Looking down at his friend, he noticed that the dog’s head was tilted to the side in an expression of great curiosity as he beheld the elaborate display spread before him.

The old man managed a meager smile.

It’s Christmas, my friend, he said. I don’t suppose you’ve ever experienced one of those, have you?

Sebastian looked up at him for a moment, as if trying to understand his words, but his attention was drawn back to the tableau on the lawn.

See, the man explained, pointing to the various figures, those are the shepherds of the field, and surrounding them are their sheep and their cattle. And there, see those three men holding boxes? Those are the three kings. They’re bringing gifts to the newborn babe in the manger.

Three kings bringing gifts. It was all too complex for Sebastian, and his head tilted further.

The old man took his time explaining the scene to the little dog, indicating the figures of Mary and Joseph, before pointing to the image of a large, exquisite star, mounted above the stable setting. The star was covered in glitter that sparkled brightly in the morning sun.

And up there, the old man continued, is the heavenly star that has led these people to the stable. And there, in that little manger is the baby Jesus, Sebastian. He’s the reason for the season, you see.

The words themselves made no sense to Sebastian. All of the figures on the lawn, the people, the animals, none of them was real, he knew, but he sensed that all of this meant something special, the baby in the center of it all, especially.

The old man stood, lost in reverie, and his eyes clouded as he dreamed of a world in which everyone behaved a bit more like the baby in the manger.

Sebastian sniffed the air, particularly fascinated by the men with the gifts.

A sedan passed nearby, arousing the old man from his dream and reminding him that he’d better keep moving. Residents in a neighborhood like this would likely be suspicious of him if he was noticed and a call to the police would quickly follow, Christmas be damned. It would be best to find his way out of the tract to a locale where he was less likely to draw attention. He gave a slight tug to Sebastian’s lead as he pushed his shopping cart forward.

The car that had just passed them pulled into the driveway and parked in front of a single-story house a block and a half ahead of the direction the two wanderers were traveling. A young man climbed from behind the steering wheel and opened the back door of the car, retrieving several large gifts as a little girl, about eight years old, hopped out of the front seat on the other side. She wore a bright, fine, holiday dress and was giggling excitedly.

The old man turned his head away from them and pulled his hat lower over his eyes as he kept moving. He tried his best to be invisible.

Sebastian was less inclined to remain unseen, wagging his tail, panting eagerly, smiling a doggy smile as they neared the strangers. Perhaps the little girl would notice him and want to play. He did so love to play with children. But alas, he and the old man hadn’t been noticed.

As they passed the visitors, an aging, gray-haired lady, joyfully laughing, came out of the house to greet the man and the girl, and she wrapped her arms around them, tightly hugging each in turn. The three of them then walked arm in arm through the front door, their laughter and excited conversation soon muffled behind the door as it closed.

Sebastian had been cheered just by the sight of them. Let’s have a lot more of that, he thought, and his trot turned into a little prance as he continued down the sidewalk next to his friend.

Heading in the direction the old man hoped would lead them out of the residential area, they passed a single-story house located behind an expansive green lawn on a corner lot. Like the other houses, this one was gaily decorated with garland and holiday lighting, but that was not what caught the old man’s eye. Sitting at the curb in front was a large, black trash container. Waste pickup in this neighborhood was scheduled for the day after Christmas, and, apparently, the residents had opted to place their container out early.

After briefly surveying the area, the old man headed for the container and threw back the lid, which fell back on its hinges as he leaned inside to inventory its contents. He found it generously filled and his spirits brightened a bit at the prospect of finding something edible.

Sebastian watched him for a moment as he rummaged through the trash bin, but his attention was soon directed back to the house where they had paused. He sat on the sidewalk and cocked his head curiously, allowing the atmosphere of the moment to wash over him.

It wasn’t the decorations in front that now captivated his attention. It was the activity that was going on inside. He couldn’t see beyond the tall, white door in front, on which a thick pine wreath hung, profusely decorated with holiday ornaments, nor could he see clearly through the two curtained