A Winter’s Tail

Along came Santa, who just happened to be the perfect match for Humphrey – and also for Liza!

Liza, could you get Humphrey to smile? If it’s at all possible.” Liza’s own smile was on the verge of exhaustion after an-hour-that-feltlike-three with the photographer from the local newspaper. It was the annual Christmas photoshoot for the Creechdale Animal Trust Pets in Need campaign. A centre spread of the animals looking their festive best would feature in the paper’s popular Christmas edition, plus there would be a big campaign on their social media pages. This time of year, it was full of local events – fairs, carol singing and the ever-popular Santa in the Stocks on the village green. Everyone already seemed as eager as ever to buy tickets for the chance to pelt the local councillor with rotten fruit.

Liza leaned over Humphrey – a dog with curls of brown hair on his face and legs, but none on his actual body. He had one blind eye and an uneven jaw that made him permanently look like he was impersonating Elvis’s lip curl. The dog turned his face towards her and licked her chin. The reindeer antlers he’d been wearing on his head fell to the floor and all the other dogs started barking. The photographer put her hands over her ears.

Although a pet should never just be for Christmas, after the December centrefold was published each year, the centre received the most enquiries about the animals who had starred. And when an initial contact led to an actual visit, it ordinarily led to rehoming.

“Come on, Humph,” Liza whispered into the dog’s wonky ear. “This is going to be your year for getting a new home.”

The truth was no one wanted Humphrey. Ever. He was the kind of dog that made young children cry. Even with bright green tinsel around his scrawny neck and the antler headband settled on what fluff he did possess, he looked part armadillo, part something thought up by Jim Henson.

Humphrey pushed his misshapen nose into her cheek and seemed to pull an even more dastardly expression. Liza rubbed the top of his head and replaced the antlers. If it wasn’t for the no pets clause in her rental agreement she would adopt him in a heartbeat.

She had always been an animal lover. It started with Dotty the dog when she was seven and ended with a rat called Errol whom she was convinced Will had accidently-on-purpose released. She had been able to forgive her now ex-boyfriend many things, but the ambiguity over Errol’s disappearance and the lack of any doubt over his non-professional relationship with his secretary, Martina were the final partnership dealbreakers. It had been almost a whole year in her tiny apartment with the animal clause, a whole year working with the animal claws here at the shelter, and now Santa Claus himself was due to arrive in two weeks.

The photoshoot had now gone to press. The photographer had chosen all of the snaps where Humphrey looked worse than a crushed Twiglet and even one where it was only his bottom in the shot when he’d chased a rogue moth. Sully and Bianca had been rehomed already, someone was coming to see Ted Sheeran tomorrow, but no one had looked twice at Humphrey. Most people regretted looking even once.

Liza glanced into his kennel now. He was doing that thing she thought was really clever but everyone else – even the staff here – thought was disgusting. Humphrey could hold his stubby tail in his mouth and rotate a full three-hundredand-sixty like the most accomplished break dancer. Liza grinned, watching him spin around and around, drool dribbling out of his mouth, uncaring and looking as excited as a child on Christmas Eve.

“Liza, someone’s here to see Humphrey.” Liza turned around at the sound of the manager, Hetty’s voice. This had to be an April Fool. Except it was December. Maybe she’d heard wrong…

Hetty was making cartoon eyes though and looking like those eyes might burst out of her skull if she smiled any wider. The manager was also nodding, throwing her head back towards the reception area.

“Are you sure they want to see Humphrey?” Liza checked. “You couldn’t have misheard?”

Hetty shook her head. “I doublechecked. He saw him online. So I got the centrespread of the newspaper out and he pointed at the photo where Humphrey is trying to bite Misty in the baubles.”

Liza’s heart quickened. Could this be happening? And had Hetty said the potential owner was a he?

“I’ll give you five minutes to prepare,” Hetty said, putting a hand on Liza’s shoulder. “Then I’ll send the guy out into the paddock.”

That was a good idea. It was getting dark. Some of the horror of Humphrey’s appearance might be masked in the twilight. But maybe he would perform the trot like he was a dressage horse. He’d started doing that out of nowhere just last summer.

Taking a deep breath, Liza opened the door to Humphrey’s kennel and stepped inside.

Iknow it’s cold, Humph but please try to stop shaking. We need to impress this person. He could be your new owner.”

It was freezing and there was a layer of frost on the grass. Liza had wrapped herself up in her coat and put her red beanie hat over her long dark hair. Now, where was this person who had picked Humphrey out of the festive pictures? Pleasebenice.Pleaselookkind.Please don’tappearlikeyoucan’tlookafter yourself,letaloneapet.

She didn’t have time to think anything else because Humphrey let out one of his half-barks, half-gargles and was sprinting like he had turned into a greyhound and was set to outrun the hare. It was all Liza could do to hold on to the lead and her feet were having to make fast work of the icy

The truth was no one wanted Humphrey – he was the kind of dog that made young children cry!

ground to stop her from planting face first into the grass.

“Humph! Slow down! Humph! Stop! Woooo-ah!”

There was a collision. Liza had fallen face first, but it wasn’t hard ground meeting her cheek, but padded jacket and firm body. She tried to catch her breath. She tried to ensure all her body parts were working, before finally shifting over to her left. And then she began to worry about Humphrey.

“It’s OK,” a man’s voice breathed. “I’ve got him. Hey, you, aren’t you a little handful?”

Liza watched from the ground as the man got up from the floor scooping Humphrey into his arms, then jiggling him about like he was a much-loved baby. There was something a little familiar about him.

“Sorry,” the man said, turning to face her. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Can I help you up?”

Somehow this stranger was able to both coddle Humphrey and offer a gloved hand out to her. She took his hand and gingerly got to her feet.

“He’s not normally like this,” Liza said immediately. “I don’t know what got into him tonight.” The last thing she wanted was Humphrey’s rehoming chances scuppered because of one out-ofcharacter moment, or her falling on top of this potential furbaby father…

“Oh,” the man said, sounding almost disappointed. “I rather hoped he wasn’t the same as one of those boring dogs in the pictures who looked like they could sit still the entire day.” He put his mouth close to Humphrey’s ear and whispered. “I don’t do boring. I like going for runs and walks and playing football.” The man looked back up at Liza then. “Does he play football?” “Not professionally,” Liza replied. The man laughed then, green eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he hugged Humphrey a little closer.

“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” Liza said, reaching out and stroking Humphrey’s ears.

“Damn, you got me,” he said with an intake of breath. “I’m… Santa. I knew I should have kept the beard.”

He smiled with his joke and Liza took a second to really focus on him under the muted festive lights strung around the fencing of the outdoor space. Thick dark hair, green eyes, a day’s worth of stubble speckling his jaw. And then it hit her… “You’re…”

“Matthew,” he interrupted. “I used to work with Will.” He shifted his feet amid the frost and looked a little awkward.

“You were Martina’s boyfriend,” Liza said, all the pieces slotting into place.

“Please,” Matthew said quickly. “Don’t hold that against me, Liza.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “I’d really like to adopt this little guy.”

He’d remembered her name. Humphrey decided now was the moment to drop one of his infamous bottom blowouts. The sound – and smell – hung in the cold air… and Matthew didn’t say a word. He just kept bouncing the dog in his arms as if they were already best friends.

“OK,” Liza said with a nod. “Let’s go in and look through the paperwork. But you won’t be able to take him away today. There’ll need to be a home visit.”

“That’s fine, isn’t it, buddy? A dog’s not just for Christmas, right?” Matthew held Humphrey up to his face and kissed his tuft of head fur.

Liza swallowed. Was this somehow too perfect a match?