Chapter 101 Puck and the Pack
The Kane family had always felt complete with their three children—Eleanor (ten), Benjamin (eight), and Sophia (six)—but something had been missing.
A dog.
The kids had been asking for years.
“Mom, please—Rowie had Scout and Puck growing up!” Eleanor pleaded, eyes wide with the kind of hope only a ten-year-old can muster.
“Dad, a dog could come to games!” Benjamin added, clutching his toy stethoscope as if the argument needed medical backing.
Sophia, the youngest, simply repeated “Puppy! Puppy!” while jumping on the couch.
Harper and Theo held out for a long time. Pro schedules were brutal, young kids were a handful, and life was already full. A dog felt like one more thing they couldn’t manage.
But one spring weekend in Evergreen Hollow changed everything.
The family had gathered for the annual retreat. The pond was calm, the air smelled of fresh green, and the grandchildren—Eleanor, Benjamin, Sophia, and their cousins—were playing on the grass near the dock.
Then a stray dog wandered up.
He was a golden retriever mix—thin, ribs faintly visible, fur matted, but his tail wagged slowly when he saw the kids. He looked exhausted, like he’d been walking for days.
Sophia spotted him first.
“Puppy!”
She ran toward him, fearless. The dog froze, ears up, then cautiously approached and rolled over for belly rubs, tail thumping softly.
Benjamin dropped to his knees. “He’s hungry.”
Eleanor knelt too. “Can we keep him?”
The adults exchanged looks.
Lily laughed softly. “Famous last words.”
Rowie smiled, a little wistful. “He looks like Scout when he showed up—lost, but ready to belong.”
Theo—soft-hearted under the surgeon’s calm—knelt and checked the dog over with gentle hands. No collar. No chip when they scanned him later. The local shelter said no one had reported a missing dog matching his description.
“He’s healthy,” Theo said quietly. “Just needs love. And food. And probably a bath.”
Harper met his eyes.
The kids held their breath.
Harper smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
They named him Puck—after the obvious hockey connection, and because the name felt right.
Puck settled in like he’d always been there.
Mornings became brighter: Puck woke the kids with wet noses and tail thumps, herding them downstairs like a four-legged shepherd.
Games were louder: Puck sat in the family section at Fleet games wearing a tiny crimson jersey, barking every time Harper scored. The crowd loved it—chants of “Puck! Puck!” echoed through the arena.
Off-season in Evergreen Hollow: Puck ran the pond path with Harper, “rowed crew” with Theo in the boat (standing at the bow like a figurehead), and chased pucks on the backyard ice until he slid comically across the surface.
Puck slept at the foot of the kids’ beds—rotating nights so no one felt left out.
Eleanor taught him “fetch the puck” with the same focus she brought to her own shots.
Benjamin “checked” his heart with the toy stethoscope, declaring him “perfectly healthy.”
Sophia read him bedtime stories, Puck’s head in her lap, eyes half-closed in bliss.
One summer night in Evergreen Hollow, the family gathered by the firepit.
Puck lay in the middle—belly rubs from little hands, tail thumping slow and content.
Harper looked at Theo across the flames.
“Best decision,” she whispered.
He smiled, reaching for her hand. “Told you.”
Puck became part of every ritual.
Christmas: his own stocking stuffed with treats and a new puck-shaped toy.
Birthdays: party hat, a small slice of cake, and a chorus of “Happy Birthday” sung off-key by the kids.
Family skates: Puck on the ice, chasing pucks, sliding into the boards, then shaking off snow and barking triumphantly.
Years passed gently.
Puck grayed at the muzzle but his energy stayed strong—still bounding after pucks, still greeting everyone with the same joyful wag.
One fall evening, Puck didn’t wake for his morning walk.
Harper noticed first—his breathing shallow, body still.
She called Theo.
They gathered the kids.
Puck passed peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by the family he’d chosen.
They buried him by the pond—small marker: “Puck Grant – Loyal Teammate.”
The kids cried.
Eleanor whispered, “He was the best goalie ever.”
Benjamin held his toy stethoscope tight. “He was healthy… right?”
Sophia buried her face in Harper’s shirt.
Harper held them close. “He was family. He knew it. And he loved us so much.”
Theo’s voice broke. “The best.”
They planted a tree—lights strung in memory.
Puck’s spirit lived on.
In laughter that still echoed across the pond.
In love that had opened their hearts to a stray—and been loved fiercely in return.
In Boston and Evergreen Hollow, Theo and Harper Grant raised their children—with room for furry family too.
The ice carried dreams.
The water carried peace.
And love—passed forward, like a perfect breakout pass—lived in every wag, every wet nose, every joyful bark.
The family moved forward.
Together.
Always.