Hanna's Good Deed

Hanna's Good Deed

         Hanna’s bare feet padded down the incline of the boardwalk towards the ocean.  The sky was bright, and the sun was shining.  It was a perfect beach day!

         Laden down with bags and a large picnic basket, her father followed behind more slowly.  He continued to struggle with his burdens for a hundred feet or so and then called out, “How about here?”

         Hanna looked at him from where she bent over a pile of debris washed up on the sand and answered, “It’s fine, Daddy.  Just hurry.  I’m hungry, and you always make me wait so long before I can go into the water after I eat.”

         She ran to where the water rushed up to kiss the shore and dropped down onto the warm sand.  Then she stared out over the infinite blue-green sea.

         She’d just turned to check on how her dad was doing when a little spotted terrier came trotting down the beach towards her.  He looked a bit dirty and hungry, but Hanna could see he was wearing a collar.

         “Puppy!” she called, “Come here, puppy.”

         “Hanna!”

         She turned and faced her father.  “It’s okay, Daddy.  He has a collar.”

         “Leave him alone, Hanna.  He might belong to someone—but he isn’t ours and we don’t know where he’s been.”

         “But Daddy . . .”

         “You heard me, young lady.  Leave him alone!”

         “Yes, Sir.”  Frowning, she swung around and eyed the little dog.

         Her father called to her, “I thought you were so hungry.  Hurry up.  The sooner you finish eating, the sooner you will be able to go swimming.”  Then he squatted on the blanket, opened a bag of chips, and doled out sandwiches.

         He was just unscrewing the lid of a jar of pickle when she reached the blanket.  He held out the jar for her.  She tugged out a gherkin, snapped the end off and practically swallowed the bite whole.

         “You might as well chew.  You’re still going to need to wait before you go swimming.”  He smiled at her, pulled out one of his own, and ate it whole. 

         “Oh Daddy,” Hanna giggled.  She took a sandwich and made an effort to chew each bit thirty times like Mommy said, but she kept her eye on the terrier now hovering just beyond arm’s length.  She gave her dad a furtive glance, saw he was struggling to get another pickle from the jar, and took her chance.  She tore off a corner of her sandwich and tossed it in the puppy’s direction.  The dog scurried forward, snatched it from the sand, and scooted back.  However, he stayed a bit closer.

         “I saw that, Hanna Lynn,” her father said.  If he’d tried to sound stern, he’d failed.  He reached into the picnic basket, pulled out another sandwich, and unwrapped it.  “You hungry, boy?  Here you go then.” The little dog slinked in, stretched his neck out, and accepted the food.

         He carried it to the far side of the blanket, circled once or twice, and settled on its edge.  Hanna watched the dog wolf down the sandwich.  Then she gave her father a raised eyebrow and a smile.  She was rewarded with a nod and a grin from him.  She took another sandwich and offered it to the little dog. 

         This time he moved beside her and took it from her hand.  After he’d finished, he licked her, as if to say thank you.  She petted his head and felt through his fur for the collar.  There were no tags on is, but there was a metal plate that read ‘Snuggles’.

         “Snuggles . . . is that your name?”  She scratched behind an ear, adding, “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

         “He seems very good, Hanna, but you cannot take him home.  He obviously belongs to someone who would miss him.”

         “Then why did they lose him?”  She frowned and nodded.

         “We don’t know that he is lost.  Perhaps he lives around here, or his owner is only further down the beach a ways.”

         At that moment, a gust of wind came up, and a piece of paper flutter onto their blanket.  It had a picture of Snuggles, as well as an address and phone number.

         Hanna’s father smoothed it out and showed it to her.  “Well, he does have a home, but it’s not just ‘round the corner.  This is several miles away.”  He reached out and gave the dog a pat.  “Don’t worry, boy.  We’ll take you home.”  He looked out at the dark clouds, piling up on the horizon.  “It looks like a storm’s coming, so we might as well head home ourselves.  We’ll drop him off on the way.”

         “But—” Hanna began.

         Her dad cut her off.  “No, Hanna.  You wouldn’t like it if you had a puppy that got lost, and someone found him, but instead of bringing him back to you, they just kept him, would you?”

         “No, Sir.”  She petted the dog and scowled.

         Her father took off his belt, slipped the end through the buckle, and put it around Snuggles' neck for a leash.  He handed the end to Hanna and gathered up their things.  Then they headed back up the boardwalk and to the car. 

         It took a few minutes for them to find the address listed on the paper, but they were soon ringing the bell.

“Daddy,” Hanna said, in one last attempt, “this doesn’t look like a very nice place.  The house needs painting and the lawn needs mowing  . . .”

         Her father looked as though he was about to say something when they heard movement inside.  The door cracked open, an eye peered out and a feeble voice asked, “Yes . . .”

         Hanna’s father held up the flyer, before he stepped back so she could see the dog. 

         “Snuggles!”  The door shut and there was the sound of the chain being released.  Then the door flung open again, wide this time.  An ancient woman supported by a walker cried out, “Snuggles, you’ve come home!”

         The dog bounced up and down, whimpering, and struggling against Hanna’s grip.  But he didn’t jump on his mistress.  He rubbed against her and lifted up one paw.  Hanna looked at the puppy and then up into the old lady’s face. 

         When her father bent down to take his belt off the dog, she leaned in a whispered in an ear.  He looked at her and smiled.  “I think that’s a lovely idea.”           Then he turned to the woman and said, “My daughter would like to know if we could come and visit you andSnuggles?  And when we do, if there weren’t some things we might help you with?

         The old lady smiled and nodded in silence, but there were tears glistening in her eyes.



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