My short story was published last year in Smartypants online magazine. The rights have reverted back to me and this is the perfect time to share it. Enjoy!
The Perfect Christmas Tree
By Deborah Dolan Hunt
“This is my favorite day,” shouted Johnny.
“We need to stay together,” said Mommy.
“Someone needs to watch Chewy,” said Daddy.
Meg giggled. “We can’t let her knock down any trees this year.”
“I’ll watch her,” said Brian.
“Can we start with the fluffy ones first?” asked Meg. “They’re my favorite.”
Chewy led the way.
“Wow!” said Johnny. “I like this one.”
“I like that one,” said Meg. “It’s so soft.”
“They’re too small,” said Brian.
“You always say that!” said Meg.
“Can we go look at the big trees?” asked Brian.
“Yes,” said Mommy. “We need to look at some more before we decide.”
They walked down the other path. Chewy stopped and sniffed everything.
“This one is perfect,” said Brian.
“I like that one,” said Johnny.
“These are too big.” Meg stamped her feet.
Chewy jumped up and tried to take Meg’s mitten.
“Silly puppy,” Meg patted her head. “We can play later.”
“This is the perfect tree,” said Brian.
“We still need to look at the really wide ones,” said Johnny.
It started to snow as they walked.
“I love snow,” said Meg.
“Maybe we can build a snowman later,” said Brian.
Johnny shouted. “I found the perfect tree. It can fit all of our ornaments.”
“But it might not fit in the house,” said Daddy.
“I wish we had a bigger house,” said Johnny.
“We need to decide soon,” said Mommy as she looked up at the sky.
Meg pouted. “I want the fluffy one.”
“You got to choose last year,” said Brian. “I want the big one.”
“I never get to choose,” said Johnny. “I want a wide one.”
“Please stop this, or we’ll have to come back next week,” said Daddy.
“Where’s Chewy?” asked Johnny.
Brian gasped. He was still holding the leash, but Chewy was gone.
“We’ll never find Chewy in all of this snow,” cried Meg.
“Maybe we should split up,” said Brian.
“Good idea,” said Daddy. “You and Johnny come with me, and Meg you go with
It was getting very windy, and the snow was falling harder.
“Chewy, Chewy, where are you?” they all shouted.
The farm was almost empty, but Chewy was nowhere to be found.
“What are we going to do?” asked Meg.
“We need to keep looking,” said Brian.
“I’m so cold,” said Johnny. “Can we get hot chocolate?”
“Yes,” said Mommy. “We can keep looking on the way.”
The hot chocolate helped warm them up, but everyone was sad.
“Where can Chewy be?” We’ve searched all over,” said Meg.
Brian jumped up. “I think I know where she is!”
Everyone ran after him.
“Look!” shouted Johnny.
Chewy was laying under a tree that was not too big, or too fluffy, or too wide.
“How did you know where to find her?” asked Johnny.
Brian giggled. “This is the same spot where she knocked all the trees down last
“Chewy, you picked the perfect tree again,” said Meg.