It all began when my younger brother, Chris, and I went over to Aunt Barbara and Uncle Howard’s for Thanksgiving. My aunt and uncle lived on a farm at the opposite end of town, and Chris and I loved going there. We lived on a farm, too, and we had to do the morning work before we left. When we finally got to my aunt and uncle’s, Chris and I went outside to see if Uncle Howard needed help with anything. He and Dad had decided to clean out the yard before dinner. Chris and I both helped. But we still found time to ask Uncle Howard a lot of questions about turkeys. He thanked our help, and handed us two turkey eggs when we finished the cleaning work.

“You kids put those under a setting hen,” he said, “and in twenty-five days, you’ll have a couple of fine turkeys” Chris was so excited that he nearly dropped his egg on the way to the house. At dinner, we both couldn’t wait for the grownups to finish talking so we could go home and tend to our eggs. Dad put the eggs under an old hen, and every day Chris and I would check to see if they’d hatched yet.

Twenty-five days seemed like forever. Finally, on the twenty-sixth day, Chris and I walked home after school to find the old hen scratching on the floor. Behind her were two little turkeys, falling over their feet and looking sort of confused.

It wasn’t long before the little turkeys began growing feathers. The old hen would stare at her two strange-looking babies, obviously puzzled as to why they looked so different from her other babies. When they got older, we could tell that they were both toms (雄性) Chris named one Bill, and I named the other Timothy. Day by day, both of them grew up and became stronger and stronger.

Thanksgiving day arrived again, but somehow we couldn’t find Bill.

We decided to save Timothy from ending up on Thanksgiving table.

“Tiki!”I yelled.

Our little white dog Tiki had slipped out the door earlier that evening while I was carrying groceries into the house. Now I was searching the neighborhood with my seven-year-old son, Jordan, and my three-year-old daughter, Julia, trying to find him.

The last few months had been difficult. After losing my husband, I could no longer afford our house in New York. The kids and I moved in northern Indiana, 150 miles away from the city. Change was easier for Julia at her age, but Jordan missed his friends and his old school. Losing his childhood dog was the last thing he needed.

We called out Tiki’s name and knocked on neighbors’ doors until it was too dark to see. We were forced to return home empty-handed.

“Mom, it’s all new here. What if Tiki can’t find our house?” asked Jordan.

“It’s okay,”I said. “He’s wearing his collar and dog tags, so if someone finds him, they’ll call me, and we’ll get him back. “It was at that moment that I realized with horror that Tiki’s tags listed our address and phone number in New York. If someone found him, they’d have no way to reach me.

I kept asking around to see if anyone had spotted him. But after two weeks, I was beginning to lose hope.

The kids were upset, especially Jordan. One afternoon, I found him crying in his room. “At school, we had to write about our wishes,” he said. “I wrote, ‘I wish my dog would come home.’ Mrs. Rush hung our papers in the hallway (走廊). Every time I see my paper, I feel sad.” My heart broke for him.

So later that week, when he put on an old T-shirt from his old school back in New York, something told me to just let him do it. When he got home that afternoon, he told me the school librarian had asked him about his T-shirt. “I told him that we just moved here from Now York,” said Jordan.

The next day, the school librarian called to tell that his grown daughter found a dog a few weeks ago.

“Thank you for taking care of Tiki,” I said, “but what made your dad think he was ours?”

“Bang. . !” Sara pushed the door open. She threw her school bag onto the floor and called out, “I’m home!” No answer. The house was silent. It sounded empty, but she knew it wasn’t. Her mum and dad were working upstairs.

Sara got a glass of orange juice, went into the conservatory (玻璃房) and sat down in her favourite chair. The garden was still in the dark afternoon. On one side, her mum’s garden was neat and tidy with boring short grass, boring straight flowerbeds and boring straight paths. But on the other side, Sara’s Nature Garden looked wild and exciting with big dead sunflowers and tall grasses.

“Nobody is interested in me. Mum and dad only think about their work,” she thought sadly.

Then she recalled: One month earlier, she learned in a magazine that many dogs were abandoned because their owners got bored with them; One hour earlier, she saw a cute dog wagging its tail and licking her friend’s face.

Sara knew today was special. Today things were changing. She couldn’t wait any longer. It’s time to talk to her parents.

So Sara got up from her chair and climbed all the way to the loft (阁楼). “Mum, I want a talk.” said Sara. “Just a minute!” Her mum clicked on the keyboard, took off her glasses and turned to her daughter. Sara coughed, took a deep breath, and told her mum that she wanted a dog. “No, Sara. That’s impossible,” her mum said firmly. Sara went to her father but got the same answer. She rushed into her room angrily and slammed the door shut.

Later, Sara’s mum knocked at the door and went in. “Darling, we know this is important to you. You can have a dog if you take the responsibility. But look at your Nature Garden, your school bag, your bedroom! What a mess! Do you think you can take good care of a dog?” said her mum.

Sara was lost in thought and decided to make some changes.

With the dog’s company, Sara began her busy but joyful life.