Picture of Molly, courtesy of the Scottish Farmer

A DOG IS FOR CHRISTMAS

Hamish had been tidying his living-room when the knock came on the door. Who could that be? He wasn't expecting anyone. In fact, apart from the postman hardly anybody called. He opened the door. A small girl stood there; by her side an elderly sheepdog. Both were flecked with snow which was falling sparsely with the promise of more to follow.

Hamish stared at his unexpected visitors. He recognised one of his neighbour's children.

Molly nodded vigorously. 'I'm the eldest. I'm ten and a half.'

'But why are you here? Anyway you'd better come in, your knees are turning blue; I have a fire.'

Molly stood by the fire, warming herself. The dog lay and inched closer to the warmth.

'I remember him,' said Hamish. His name's Bob. The dog's ears twitched and his eyes responded but he maintained his position by the burning logs.

'Trained him as a youngster with some Indian Runners I had at the time.'

'What's Indian Runners?

'Oh, ducks. Kind of straight up and down ducks. I expect that's why they are called runners.

' My mum says you're a tidy chap. Keep your place tidy. Some old men don't.'

'Tidy,' said Hamish. 'A bit spartan.'

'What's spartan?' asked Molly.

'Oh, a bit bare I suppose, just the bare necessities. But it's all I need really.'

'Was it all you needed when your wife was alive?'

Hamish smiled, she's been gone five years. I suppose we never could afford much more.

I'm a smallholder, not a proper farmer like your dad.'

'My dad says if the house wasn't full of dogs and children he could afford a few more sheep.'

Hamish chuckled. 'How many is it now?'

'Children or dogs?'

'Well, children, then dogs.'

'Five girls and three dogs,' said Molly briefly. 'My mum says you will not come and spend Christmas with us. She says you'll be lonely especially now you've retired and sold the animals.'

'I do miss the animals, especially the old house cow but she was getting on a bit and the collie died last year. But why have you come?'

'My dad wants you to look after Bob, just over Christmas. He said to just leave the dog whatever you said. He said you are a stubborn old ... '

'Yes, yes,' Hamish interrupted quickly. 'No need to tell me exactly what he said. Just in your own words.'

'Well, he did say you were stubborn and old and I had to leave the dog.'

'Bob is most welcome,' said Hamish gravely. 'And you are as well, any time you feel like a chat. Now you must be off - but hold on, it's cold outside, let me see what I can find.'

He disappeared into another room and returned with a knitted bonnet, a scarf and gloves. 'These were my wife's. They'll be a bit big but you are growing fast.'

Molly's face lit up with pleasure. 'They are all matching,' she exclaimed and hurried to try them on. An extra turn up on the bonnet made it a reasonable fit and the gloves and scarf were not too oversized.

'There's a mirror in the bedroom, go and have a look.'

She returned, smiling broadly. 'Thanks,' she said. 'We don't get many presents.'

Hamish fumbled in a tin on the mantlepiece and found some coins. 'For the others,' he explained. 'We wouldn't want them to feel left out. Now, straight home, as fast as you can.'

The expected fall of snow didn't come. Christmas day dawned crisply with a fine powdering of snow on fields and trees. The sun came out palely and Hamish and Bob set off to walk the fields and lanes.

The old dog seemed to be enjoying his escape from a household filled with children and other dogs. In the evening there was food to prepare and enjoy and an hour or two by the fire.

Boxing day passed equally pleasantly and the day after, Molly's dad appeared.

'Thanks for looking after old Bob,' he said.

'You can leave him a bit longer if you like,' offered Hamish. 'He's good company, doesn't talk back.'

'The girls miss him. He has to go home. Tell you what though. I have a young dog needs starting. You could have him. Of course you would need a few ewes to work with. I could see to that. Come over on New Years day and we'll talk about it - over a drink and a bit of shortbread.' He grinned, 'Molly says she thinks you are only a little bit stubborn. She expects you will come.'

Hamish smiled. 'Thanks, I'll see.'

Molly's dad strode briskly away, Bob at his heels. 'See you then.'

Hamish looked round his farmyard. Empty sheds looked back. A few sheep and a young dog to start - the thought brought a smile and he fell to musing. He did miss the old house cow - well maybe he should have another, and a couple of sows ... His marriage had not been blessed with children. A house full of children and dogs could be pleasant in moderate doses.

He thought of his neighbour - a bit of a rough diamond, but he had some good ploys. Sending young Molly over; and the dog for Christmas idea hadn't been bad either. And at New Year a chat and a drink, well; Molly thought he would come, he could hardly let her down.