On Saint Lucia’s Day, our puppy Dulcinea had surgery. She’d been listless for days, picking at her food and resting on the floor with the kitties. We brought her to the veterinarian, who discovered a 3-inch mass in her abdomen.

So we rushed her in for surgery, and then I lit a candle, as I always do on St. Lucy’s Day. I bought cookies to observe the holiday. I waited.

Dulcie came home the next day with a big smile and an even bigger scar. My kitty Mithril lay beside her as she recovered, keeping her warm. [Mithril’s a good cat, but he thinks he’s a dog.]

Before long, Dulcinea was roaming in the yard, enjoying the fading light of the winter solstice.