The Snow

                Stray animals were a regular feature at the Peterson house. They were never wanted, of course, but they were always there. Mrs. Peterson hated the mangy animals. They did nothing but bring fleas and eat the food of the household pets, and there were enough of them to feed already.

                The Peterson household wasn't exactly a farm. They just had a few different kinds of dogs to breed, they had a handful of chickens, and they owned a few goats that would roam around the yard.

                The stray animals were beginning to drive Mrs. Peterson over the edge. Her husband was away taking care of some kind of family business, but she was going to have no more of the strays that stayed in her yard. He was usually able to keep them away, but she had not the slightest idea when he would be back.

                "Get rid of them," she demanded after coming inside from feeding the animals. "Get rid of them or I'll do it myself."

                "They just need a bit of food. They ain't doin' no harm, Ma," Jackson, the oldest of her two children, said, looking up from his bowl of cereal.

                "Ain't doin'no harm?" His mother scoffed. "I'd like to see you out there tending to those animals with those stray beasts always on your heels." She took off her jacket and hung it on the hook near the door.

                "I'll get rid of them, Ma, if you really don't want them around anymore.

                "If you can do that, Jackson, I'll be praising the heavens. I just might- might- oh, I don't know what I'd do. I'd be real thankful, that's it.

                Jackson, sixteen years old, didn't want to fool with the blasted animals covered in God-knows what kind of disease. He liked animals just as much as the next sixteen year old boy, but he wouldn't have even considered getting rid of the animals if he wasn't going to try and get some kind of personal gain from it.  He knew that if he got rid of the dogs his mother would be more willing to let him use the family's truck to drive to football. He knew that all the other boys on the team would be jealous of him if he drove up in that truck. It was new. All he had to do was get rid of the dogs. In fact, he was planning on using the truck to get rid of the dogs that infested the yard.

                His plan to use the truck to go to football practice worked flawlessly. He loaded the dogs up into the bed of his truck, thankful that none of them tried to jump out, and drove out about fifteen miles, out across the old railroad tracks. That's where everyone drops off their animals, so why not drop the strays.

                They've probably been here before, Jackson thought.

                There was no way the dogs could follow him home. He wasn't going home. He was going to football practice, so he was sure there was no way the dogs would be able to find their way back to the house.

                All was well. The strays were gone, Mrs. Peterson was happy, and Jackson was allowed access to the truck any time that he wanted. Everything was pretty much back to normal, for a while. A week after Jackson had taken the dogs out to the tracks the problem was back. At least one of the problems. Somehow one of the strays, a snow-white mutt whose favourite thing was to scare the goats and eat the other dogs' food, found its way back to the house. This particular mutt was one of the dogs that set Mrs. Peterson over the edge the in the first place.

                "Jackson," his mother called. "I'm going to town. If that dog is still here by the time I get back then I swear by George that I'll- I'll- I'll dismantle that darned truck. I don't know how, but I will. And I'll just have to explain it to your father when he finally gets home."