The Gift of the Thistle

Chapter 1: Lost then Found

In a house on a hill in the rolling greens of Johnstone, Scotland. Lived a very plain young woman named Mackenzie Burkett.
She lived alone with a black Labrador named Charlie, he was the only thing that made her life much less lonely after moving so far away from home. There they both sat in the living room staring at the open fire, cuddled up under a rather comfortable blanket. A damp cold draft always managed to always loom around, only because the cottage was so old. Nothing in the house was hers, it came with the rugs all the way up to a horribly damaged emerald green chandler, hanging unlit on the rugged wood ceiling. It was a very quiet town that she's lived in for only a couple of months, everyone was so close with their families or in happy relationships, everyone was very polite and didn't know who she was,or where she came from, nothing. This brought her comfort.

It was very early in the morning still, the heavy mist still shadowed the grounds of the rolling hills out her window. The sun, A bright pale yellow ball resting on the highest hill, dazzling the tree limbs with misty white glow. This place never ceases to amaze her, it was as if though the fairytale landscapes crawled of the page of her favorite childhood book. Charlie interrupted her nostalgic memory when he barked out the letter slot from the front door.

"Your favorite man came to visit huh?" She had asked softly.
He bounded away, tail high and frantically wagging away with a treat from the postman.

Two letters where on the floor and a brown package was just resting against the door.  She wondered who would have sent a letter? She bent down to retrieve them and the parcel and brought them into the kitchen.  She glanced first at the package...Amazon. This one will be opened first, of course.

She hurried to the knife block, retrieved the smallest cutting knife and came back to the table. After having difficulties with the thickest tape imaginable, she finally managed.
It was a beautifully decorated coral rock piece for her aquarium that reminded her so much of home. She put it to the side. Where the other two white envelopes sat waiting to be opened.

First letter, from the bank. She had gotten her check two days earlier than normal. She worked in an quaint little brick building in the outskirts of town, for a travel service. "Wesson's Travel agency". They made pretty good money the past couple months because of the end of the year holidays rolling and all. Mainly selling decently priced airline tickets and packages that mostly included trips to Disneyland,Paris.

Second letter, from? The letter was completely blank.
Hmmm... she pondered for a moment. There's no sense in guessing just open the damn thing. Once the knife glided down the paper out fell a yellow lined notebook page folded up.she unraveled the page and read the top line.

Dear,
Who ever owns that damn brown dog.

I know we haven't met at all yet. BUT could you please stop your flea bag from terrorizing my farm? That would be fucking fantastic. He's the wee brown ankle biter? Well if it's not or is, please return this letter to the mailbox 101 at O'Connell Farms down the way. With your name, I need to find the owner, it's living under my tractor.
                        Sincerely,
                             Johnathan O'Connell

She scowled at the paged, seems as if though the change of address doesn't stop passive aggressive letters in the mail from coming. Charlie doesn't fit the "wee brown ankle biter" description. She remembered the time driving back from work, and the brown dog. It ran out in front of her car multiple times when she always passed a certain red mailbox with a neon orange reflector.

"Come on Charlie, car ride!" She shouted.
A black dart shot across the carpet to the front door.
She gathered her phone, the note and got keys from the key box, put on a black puffy jacket, and slipped on her rain boots and then opened the front door.