"How's it going?"

Carter shrugged. "All right, I guess."

"What do you think of the Christmas tree I found?"

"The lights don't work," he murmured.

"I'll take a look at those when I get home."

It was unusual for his father to work on Sundays. But he must've been putting in overtime at the restaurant. Christmas was a busy season and his father said they could use the money, so he worked as many overtime hours as he could get.

Carter wished his father was home the way he was almost every Sunday. Usually they watched football together. If he'd been able to keep Rusty, then his dog would've joined them. Carter was sure Rusty would enjoy football as much as he did.

"You still feel bad about Rusty?"

"Yeah."

"So do I," his father admitted.

"I know."

"He's going to a good family and they'll love Rusty, too."

But Carter didn't want any other family to love Rusty. He wanted Rusty to be his. He hung his head. "When will you be home?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye, son."

Carter handed the phone back to his mother; before she hung up, their father spoke to Bailey, too.

Then he heard it.

A dog barking.

It sounded as if Rusty was right outside the door. That wasn't possible, but it sure sounded like his dog.

"What's that noise?" his mother asked, frowning in his direction. She walked to the back door and opened it.

As Carter held his breath, he heard his mother cry out.

"Rusty!" Bailey shrieked.

"Rusty." Carter flew out of his chair so fast it went crashing backward onto the kitchen floor.

His mother opened the screen door and Rusty ran in, leaping up on his hind legs and dashing around in a circle and then jumping straight up in the air.

A moment later Rusty was licking Carter's face, yelping with joy. He flopped down on his belly, right in front of Carter, tail waving madly.

When Carter looked up at his mother, he saw that she had tears in her eyes. Soon she was down on the floor with him, hugging Rusty, too, along with Bailey. Even his sister was crying.

"How did he ever get here?" His mother stared at Carter.

He didn't have an answer for her. All he knew was that the animal shelter wasn't close by. It was miles and miles away.

Carter got a dish and filled it with water. Rusty lapped that up and ate every bit of popcorn on the floor.

"I'm not sure if popcorn's good for him or not," his mother warned.

Carter went to the cupboard for the cereal he'd fed him the day before. He prepared another large bowlful, with plenty of milk. His dog certainly wasn't a picky eater.

"Oh, Carter." His mother sighed deeply. "I don't know what your father's going to say about this."

"Don't call him at work," Carter pleaded. He was afraid his father would come home and take Rusty back to the shelter that very minute. He didn't want that to happen. Not yet. Not ever. Still, he realized his father wouldn't let Rusty stay, and he wanted to keep his dog with him as long as he could.

They finished stringing the popcorn and draping the strands on the tree. When Carter crawled underneath, Rusty came with him. With the dog at his side, Carter plugged the electrical cord in the socket again. This time the lights went on-and stayed on.

"Cool," his sister cried and clapped her hands.

"It's magic," Carter said. "Rusty brought it with him."

When they crawled out from under the tree, Rusty lay down on the carpet and rested his head on his paws. He looked about as tired as Carter felt, and he wondered if Rusty had stayed awake all night, thinking about Carter, the way Carter had about him. Unable to stop himself, Carter yawned.

"Why don't we all lie down for a bit," his mother suggested, eyeing him. It was almost as if she knew he'd hardly slept the night before.

"I don't take naps," Carter said indignantly. Bailey sometimes did. When she got cranky, their mother would send her into their bedroom. Bailey always fell asleep.

"It looks like Rusty's tired," his mother suggested. "I just thought you might want to keep him company."

"Oh."

Rusty followed Carter into his bedroom and lay on the rug beside his bed. Instead of climbing onto the mattress, Carter got down on the floor next to his dog. He flung his arm over Rusty and drifted off.

The next thing Carter heard was the sound of his father's voice.

"How is this possible?" his father was asking.

"Dad!" Carter leaped to his feet and tore into the kitchen, Rusty at his heels. "Did you hear?"

"Yes," his father said. "What I don't understand is how he found the house."

"But he did."

Rusty approached his father and gazed up at him.

His father bent down to pet Rusty's thick fur. "Well, my son said you were a special dog."