FAKE DOG,
REAL LIFE
[I have writen a Christmas story for the past 14 years in memory of a Redemptorist priest I was stationed with named Father John Duffy. He used to write a Christmas story every year for his niece in Boston. Mentioning at breakast that he had just finished his Christmas story, I asked if I could read it. He hesitated, but I pushed and that's how I found out about his custom of writing a Christmas story for his niece. He wasn't a good typist, so I retyped it on computer. The following year he came with a hand-written Christmas story and asked if I would type it up for him. Great story. Then I was changed to Ohio and that December 24th we got the notice that "Duff" had died. So in memory of "Duff" I've been writing a Christmas story every year. People have come up to me afterwards and said, "I don't get it." After saying, "Oops," or "Sorry", I say, "Well, at least I hope you get THE Christmas story." So here is # 14, entitled, "Fake Dog, Real Life."]
Once upon there was this fake dog. At first, it didn’t like being a fake dog – but that was its destiny. That was its life. In fact, this fake dog is still around – while real dogs come and go.
And this time of the year, Christmas, is his favorite time.
This fake dog is a golden retriever. It’s about 30 inches high – and 12 inches wide. It weighs about 45 pounds. So it’s heavy. It’s made mostly of wood and shellac – lots of shellac.
And like every dog, it is not an it. He has a name. In fact, because several people owned this dog, he has had four names down through the years: Ginger, Woody, Doggy, but that was only for a short time, and right now, Louis.
Two times he was a Christmas gift. Life with the first two owners was a joy. Now, with his third owner, life was not too good at first. Then Christmas came and times really changed for the better.
So let me tell you the story about Ginger, then Woody, then Doggy and now Louis.
Robby was the youngest of four kids – three boys and a girl. The girl, Becky, was the second youngest.
The Nance family always had a dog – as far back as anyone could remember. When Robby was about 4 – their dog at that time was a golden retriever named Buster. And Buster was a buster. He could knock Robby over every time – especially when little 4 year old Robby tried to climb on him. He would bark too much, but everyone got used to that. He would slide too much on the tile kitchen floor of the Nance home – but everyone got used to that too.
But when Buster died very suddenly – nobody in the Nance house got used to it. Buster was only 9 years old. This really wiped out little Robby. It was his first real experience of loss. It was his first experience of death.
Mr. and Mrs. Nance decided they better get another dog – and so they bought Buster-Two – also a golden retriever – and Buster-Two brought back joy and smiles into the Nance family’s home – but especially to Robby.
This lasted for three years – when Buster-Two broke loose one day from Robby and shot out into the street and was killed by a car.
“Woo!” This was déjà vu all over again.
Robby’s parents decided, “If we get another dog, we won’t name it “Buster-Three.”
They held off getting a new dog for almost six months. They didn’t want to go through this a third time. Besides all the kids were now in school. And nobody but Robby ever rushed to take the dog out for his walks and to do his doody each day.
It was December. Robby kept asking, “Is there any chance for us to get a new dog for Christmas?”
All was solved when Mr. and Mrs. Nance were visiting some friends, the Trevers, for a Christmas party around December 15th. There it was – a beautiful fake dog – just inside their good friend’s home. It was a wonderful, beautiful, maintenance free golden retriever – fake dog. Cost, they found out, $195 dollars – made mostly of wood, epoxy, resin and shellac – lots of shellac.
“But would Robby like a fake dog?” Mrs. Nance said to Mr. Nance.
“Of course,” said Mr. Nance to Mrs. Nance. “You heard Robby complain that he was the one who always got stuck having to take Buster-One and then Buster-Two out to do his doody every morning and night – especially when it was cold outside.”
So they bought a fake dog for Robby – hoping he would like it – knowing, “Well, at least this dog won’t run away. This dog won’t die. This dog won’t break hearts. And this dog doesn’t have to go to the bathroom.”
Surprise! Robby loved it when he unwrapped it and saw it on Christmas morning.
He took off his Raven’s hat and put it on him. He put a scarf he didn’t like that he got from his grandma around his neck – and immediately named him, “Ginger!”
Being so heavy, Robby realized he couldn’t carry Ginger into the kitchen, down the cellar, into his bedroom, which he shared with his two brothers – all three who complained their sister had her own room. So Robby decided Ginger must be kept next to his favorite chair – in the living room – where he sat while watching television.
Ginger ended up loving this – not because of what Robby watched on TV – but because of what Mr. Nance watched on TV late at night – the old movies, movies like Casablanca and Key Largo – movies without commercial breaks. Ginger hated commercials. Who ever heard of talking dogs or talking ducks?
Ginger became a neat looking piece of furniture and whenever relatives or friends came over, they always loved to pet Ginger or make comments about Ginger.
Of course, Ginger loved this arrangement. The Nance family didn’t know this. Robby didn’t know this. Ginger kept such things to himself.
Ginger stayed in the Nance home for the next 30 years. Ginger became as familiar as the dining room table or the dining room cabinets for the expensive plates and silverware.
Then one day, Ginger sensed he was in for a change. Mr. and Mrs. Nance were all by themselves and loving it. Kids would come by on a regular basis. There was Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter and birthdays. Then, Mr. and Mrs. Nance decided to sell their house and move to a much smaller place – a small condo in the city.
They asked their kids; “Who wants what piece of furniture or what have you?”
When Robby looked around the house, he only asked for Ginger. But it was not for himself. His father-in-law was in a nursing home – and really missed not having a dog – but dogs were not allowed in his nursing home. And it was Christmas time – and this would be a great gift. “We’ll put a Santa hat on him – and he will be the talk of the nursing home.”
That’s how Mr. John Rosetti, Robby’s father-in-law, became the proud new owner of the fake dog – which was about to get a new home and a new name.
When a friend dropped into his room to see the dog, he asked, “Does your dog have a name?”
Mr. Rosetti, paused for a moment and said, “Oh, that’s Woody. His name is Woody.”
Ginger didn’t like the new name at first – but soon got used to it.
Nurses and nurse’s aids, friends in wheelchairs or in walkers, when they would walk by or wheel by Mr. Rosetti’s room, often stopped in to pet Woody – and each time it would bring a smile to the person’s face – especially because Woody wore a series of different hats and caps. First it was that Santa Claus cap, then a Ravens cap, then a Redskins cap, and then an Orioles cap. When someone offered a Yankees hat, Mr. Rosetti said, “No way! Woody would never be a Yankee fan.”
All this certainly brought joy to Woody. More importantly, he was getting the attention he used to get 30 years ago when he first arrived, brand new, in the Nance home.
It brought back warm memories every time Robby and his wife with their kids would visit her dad at the nursing home.
Time moves on and Mr. Rosetti began to fail – and two summer’s later, died.
Death, as Robby knew, is always a tough part of life.
What to do with Woody? What to do with this fake dog?
Robby’s wife said to the head of the nursing home, “We already have a real dog, and my husband bought a similar wooden dog a few years ago, so if anyone wants it, it’s theirs.”
Good thing Woody didn’t hear this.
Well, right after that decision, a local pastor was visiting the nursing home and the head of the nursing home asked him, “Would you like a fake dog?”
“Sure,” said the priest.
He had seen it a few times when he visited Mr. Rosetti at the Nursing Home.
“Wow,” he said to himself, “this is heavy!” as he carried it to his car. He put it in his trunk and it stayed there for three weeks.
Finally, one Saturday morning, he took Woody and placed him over in the corner of his garage – near an old lawn mower and some cinder blocks that were there forever.
And Woody sat there all alone for a few months – in the quiet of the garage – missing all the action – all the stuff he saw in the nursing home – and before that in the Nance family living room.
Well, it was almost Christmas and a parish committee was setting up the crib in the church and all was perfect till someone knocked over the plaster donkey who banged into a plaster sheep and both were broken big time.
“Uh oh, we’ll never be able to glue all this together or to get a new donkey and a new sheep on December 23nd.”
Just then the pastor came into the church to see how things were going with the Christmas decorations. The man who had broken the two statues sheepishly walked up to the pastor and said, “I just broke a donkey and a sheep.”
The priest paused for a moment. Then came a great smile on his face. “I have just the solution.”
He headed back into his house, grabbed a large blue bath towel, and headed for his garage and the fake dog he had put in the corner.
Woody was feeling depressed – but hearing the pastor singing a Christmas song, said to himself, “I guess it’s Christmas time – and Christmas time has always been a blessing for me.”
The pastor cleaned Woody from head to foot with the big blue bath towel. Then he carried Woody – who by now – was wondering where he was going - into a church – a Catholic church. He smiled and said to himself, “This is the first time in my life I’m in a church. It must be Christmas!”
The decoration committee laughed when they saw the dog.
The pastor, whose name was Father Princebury, was all smiles. The committee said, “You’re not?”
The pastor said, “Yes we are!”
And the fake dog fit perfectly up there in the stable in the front of the church – just behind the baby Jesus. He was able to see everything that Jesus sees. And Woody wanted to pinch himself as he thought, “Wow, wow, bow, wow, this is going to be great.”
Woody loved Mass – because the lights would be on and the church was filled and he was able to see all kinds of faces – faces that changed during the Mass – smiles, yawns, puzzlement, watch watching and prayer.
He loved the music, especially the Christmas music. Everyone was singing.
Mass was a new experience for him. He finally figured out something he wondered about – the meaning of the word “Christmas”. “Da,” he barked to himself, “Christ’s Mass… Christmas.”
Woody loved being in church – up front, but not central. He didn’t know it, but he was to be the hit of the Christmas season
People from all over the county came to see the church that had the Christmas stable with the fake dog in it – and many people would put a dollar or two or kids some coins in the poor box on the way out.
After Mass on the Sunday after Christmas, a little girl asked the pastor, “Father Princebury, what’s your doggy’s name?”
He had to think quickly. With a great laugh he said, “Ho, ho, ho. You already know its name. You just said it. It’s ‘Doggy!’”
“Oooh,” thought Woody, “another name – and ‘Doggy’ – what does he think I am, a puppy?”
Well, Doggy even brought people back to church – because kids asked their parents, “Are we going to see Doggy again this Sunday?”
The pastor kept the crib up till almost the end of January.
Then he had to take it down. But instead of putting Doggy in his garage, he brought him into his living room – and placed him right next his favorite chair – his La-Z-Boy Chair – facing the TV set – where he loved to watch old movies – late into the night.
The two of them were now all alone.
And this time of the year, Christmas, is his favorite time.
This fake dog is a golden retriever. It’s about 30 inches high – and 12 inches wide. It weighs about 45 pounds. So it’s heavy. It’s made mostly of wood and shellac – lots of shellac.
And like every dog, it is not an it. He has a name. In fact, because several people owned this dog, he has had four names down through the years: Ginger, Woody, Doggy, but that was only for a short time, and right now, Louis.
Two times he was a Christmas gift. Life with the first two owners was a joy. Now, with his third owner, life was not too good at first. Then Christmas came and times really changed for the better.
So let me tell you the story about Ginger, then Woody, then Doggy and now Louis.
Robby was the youngest of four kids – three boys and a girl. The girl, Becky, was the second youngest.
The Nance family always had a dog – as far back as anyone could remember. When Robby was about 4 – their dog at that time was a golden retriever named Buster. And Buster was a buster. He could knock Robby over every time – especially when little 4 year old Robby tried to climb on him. He would bark too much, but everyone got used to that. He would slide too much on the tile kitchen floor of the Nance home – but everyone got used to that too.
But when Buster died very suddenly – nobody in the Nance house got used to it. Buster was only 9 years old. This really wiped out little Robby. It was his first real experience of loss. It was his first experience of death.
Mr. and Mrs. Nance decided they better get another dog – and so they bought Buster-Two – also a golden retriever – and Buster-Two brought back joy and smiles into the Nance family’s home – but especially to Robby.
This lasted for three years – when Buster-Two broke loose one day from Robby and shot out into the street and was killed by a car.
“Woo!” This was déjà vu all over again.
Robby’s parents decided, “If we get another dog, we won’t name it “Buster-Three.”
They held off getting a new dog for almost six months. They didn’t want to go through this a third time. Besides all the kids were now in school. And nobody but Robby ever rushed to take the dog out for his walks and to do his doody each day.
It was December. Robby kept asking, “Is there any chance for us to get a new dog for Christmas?”
All was solved when Mr. and Mrs. Nance were visiting some friends, the Trevers, for a Christmas party around December 15th. There it was – a beautiful fake dog – just inside their good friend’s home. It was a wonderful, beautiful, maintenance free golden retriever – fake dog. Cost, they found out, $195 dollars – made mostly of wood, epoxy, resin and shellac – lots of shellac.
“But would Robby like a fake dog?” Mrs. Nance said to Mr. Nance.
“Of course,” said Mr. Nance to Mrs. Nance. “You heard Robby complain that he was the one who always got stuck having to take Buster-One and then Buster-Two out to do his doody every morning and night – especially when it was cold outside.”
So they bought a fake dog for Robby – hoping he would like it – knowing, “Well, at least this dog won’t run away. This dog won’t die. This dog won’t break hearts. And this dog doesn’t have to go to the bathroom.”
Surprise! Robby loved it when he unwrapped it and saw it on Christmas morning.
He took off his Raven’s hat and put it on him. He put a scarf he didn’t like that he got from his grandma around his neck – and immediately named him, “Ginger!”
Being so heavy, Robby realized he couldn’t carry Ginger into the kitchen, down the cellar, into his bedroom, which he shared with his two brothers – all three who complained their sister had her own room. So Robby decided Ginger must be kept next to his favorite chair – in the living room – where he sat while watching television.
Ginger ended up loving this – not because of what Robby watched on TV – but because of what Mr. Nance watched on TV late at night – the old movies, movies like Casablanca and Key Largo – movies without commercial breaks. Ginger hated commercials. Who ever heard of talking dogs or talking ducks?
Ginger became a neat looking piece of furniture and whenever relatives or friends came over, they always loved to pet Ginger or make comments about Ginger.
Of course, Ginger loved this arrangement. The Nance family didn’t know this. Robby didn’t know this. Ginger kept such things to himself.
Ginger stayed in the Nance home for the next 30 years. Ginger became as familiar as the dining room table or the dining room cabinets for the expensive plates and silverware.
Then one day, Ginger sensed he was in for a change. Mr. and Mrs. Nance were all by themselves and loving it. Kids would come by on a regular basis. There was Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter and birthdays. Then, Mr. and Mrs. Nance decided to sell their house and move to a much smaller place – a small condo in the city.
They asked their kids; “Who wants what piece of furniture or what have you?”
When Robby looked around the house, he only asked for Ginger. But it was not for himself. His father-in-law was in a nursing home – and really missed not having a dog – but dogs were not allowed in his nursing home. And it was Christmas time – and this would be a great gift. “We’ll put a Santa hat on him – and he will be the talk of the nursing home.”
That’s how Mr. John Rosetti, Robby’s father-in-law, became the proud new owner of the fake dog – which was about to get a new home and a new name.
When a friend dropped into his room to see the dog, he asked, “Does your dog have a name?”
Mr. Rosetti, paused for a moment and said, “Oh, that’s Woody. His name is Woody.”
Ginger didn’t like the new name at first – but soon got used to it.
Nurses and nurse’s aids, friends in wheelchairs or in walkers, when they would walk by or wheel by Mr. Rosetti’s room, often stopped in to pet Woody – and each time it would bring a smile to the person’s face – especially because Woody wore a series of different hats and caps. First it was that Santa Claus cap, then a Ravens cap, then a Redskins cap, and then an Orioles cap. When someone offered a Yankees hat, Mr. Rosetti said, “No way! Woody would never be a Yankee fan.”
All this certainly brought joy to Woody. More importantly, he was getting the attention he used to get 30 years ago when he first arrived, brand new, in the Nance home.
It brought back warm memories every time Robby and his wife with their kids would visit her dad at the nursing home.
Time moves on and Mr. Rosetti began to fail – and two summer’s later, died.
Death, as Robby knew, is always a tough part of life.
What to do with Woody? What to do with this fake dog?
Robby’s wife said to the head of the nursing home, “We already have a real dog, and my husband bought a similar wooden dog a few years ago, so if anyone wants it, it’s theirs.”
Good thing Woody didn’t hear this.
Well, right after that decision, a local pastor was visiting the nursing home and the head of the nursing home asked him, “Would you like a fake dog?”
“Sure,” said the priest.
He had seen it a few times when he visited Mr. Rosetti at the Nursing Home.
“Wow,” he said to himself, “this is heavy!” as he carried it to his car. He put it in his trunk and it stayed there for three weeks.
Finally, one Saturday morning, he took Woody and placed him over in the corner of his garage – near an old lawn mower and some cinder blocks that were there forever.
And Woody sat there all alone for a few months – in the quiet of the garage – missing all the action – all the stuff he saw in the nursing home – and before that in the Nance family living room.
Well, it was almost Christmas and a parish committee was setting up the crib in the church and all was perfect till someone knocked over the plaster donkey who banged into a plaster sheep and both were broken big time.
“Uh oh, we’ll never be able to glue all this together or to get a new donkey and a new sheep on December 23nd.”
Just then the pastor came into the church to see how things were going with the Christmas decorations. The man who had broken the two statues sheepishly walked up to the pastor and said, “I just broke a donkey and a sheep.”
The priest paused for a moment. Then came a great smile on his face. “I have just the solution.”
He headed back into his house, grabbed a large blue bath towel, and headed for his garage and the fake dog he had put in the corner.
Woody was feeling depressed – but hearing the pastor singing a Christmas song, said to himself, “I guess it’s Christmas time – and Christmas time has always been a blessing for me.”
The pastor cleaned Woody from head to foot with the big blue bath towel. Then he carried Woody – who by now – was wondering where he was going - into a church – a Catholic church. He smiled and said to himself, “This is the first time in my life I’m in a church. It must be Christmas!”
The decoration committee laughed when they saw the dog.
The pastor, whose name was Father Princebury, was all smiles. The committee said, “You’re not?”
The pastor said, “Yes we are!”
And the fake dog fit perfectly up there in the stable in the front of the church – just behind the baby Jesus. He was able to see everything that Jesus sees. And Woody wanted to pinch himself as he thought, “Wow, wow, bow, wow, this is going to be great.”
Woody loved Mass – because the lights would be on and the church was filled and he was able to see all kinds of faces – faces that changed during the Mass – smiles, yawns, puzzlement, watch watching and prayer.
He loved the music, especially the Christmas music. Everyone was singing.
Mass was a new experience for him. He finally figured out something he wondered about – the meaning of the word “Christmas”. “Da,” he barked to himself, “Christ’s Mass… Christmas.”
Woody loved being in church – up front, but not central. He didn’t know it, but he was to be the hit of the Christmas season
People from all over the county came to see the church that had the Christmas stable with the fake dog in it – and many people would put a dollar or two or kids some coins in the poor box on the way out.
After Mass on the Sunday after Christmas, a little girl asked the pastor, “Father Princebury, what’s your doggy’s name?”
He had to think quickly. With a great laugh he said, “Ho, ho, ho. You already know its name. You just said it. It’s ‘Doggy!’”
“Oooh,” thought Woody, “another name – and ‘Doggy’ – what does he think I am, a puppy?”
Well, Doggy even brought people back to church – because kids asked their parents, “Are we going to see Doggy again this Sunday?”
The pastor kept the crib up till almost the end of January.
Then he had to take it down. But instead of putting Doggy in his garage, he brought him into his living room – and placed him right next his favorite chair – his La-Z-Boy Chair – facing the TV set – where he loved to watch old movies – late into the night.
The two of them were now all alone.
Then this priest, whose favorite movie was Casablanca, remembered the last line of the movie. He sat there, put his hand on Doggy’s head and baptized Doggy with his fourth name: “Louis” – saying and laughing at the same time, “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
