by: Karen Campbell

The Atlanta Herald’s front page looked like a rogue’s gallery with the story of the
cocaine heist. There were the Bandit, the Snowman and Carrie, happily accepting the
reward money from the authorities. There were Jason and Harlan, cuffed hands trying to
block the camera lens. There was a crimson-faced Sheriff Justice, charged with
conspiracy and theft of narcotics.
And there was one brief line about the assistance of some locals in Hazzard
County.
Well, Boss eventually got over the loss of his reward, and by the time Christmas
came to Hazzard, life had pretty well got back to normal.
Boss and Lulu took a holiday cruise to the Caribbean, and in the ensuing quiet,
what with no new schemes or scams to beware of, the Dukes actually realized the meaning of “peace on earth”. On Christmas Eve, they invited Rosco, Enos and Cooter out to the farm to share their celebrations.
The light from the cozy fire flashed onto the silver and gold tinsel that glittered on
the tall, star-crowned Christmas tree as Daisy carried in tray after tray of colourful, sweet
smelling cookies and hot, buttered rum. “Careful, Enos,” she warned! “Don’t grab so
many, they’re still hot! You’ll burn your fingers!”

“I can’t help it, Daisy? These here thimble cookies you made is so sweet!”
Daisy laughed. “Not as sweet as you, Enos, honey.”
Enos blushed.
They had opened some of their presents already, and a pile of coloured wrapping
and tissue paper lay in the corner, waiting to be carted away. Seated near the tree, Rosco
was trying to tempt Flash with a sausage roll. “Come on, darlin’. You know how much
you like sausage. You gotta eat somethin, you know. You’re gonna waste away to
nothin!”
But Flash only whined restlessly, as she had done ever since he’d arrived.
Suddenly she jumped down out of Rosco’s lap and began rooting about in the discarded
Christmas paper, whimpering piteously. Rosco followed her. “Flash? Flash, darlin, what
is it? Tell your daddy what’s wrong!”
Bo noticed his agitation. “Say, Rosco, what’s the matter? Somethin’ wrong with
old Flash?”
“Well…it’s strange, Bo.” Rosco’s voice was tense with worry. “She ain’t et a
thing all day, and she ain’t snuck a snooze neither! Won’t sit still for a minute, just keeps
wanderin’ around ‘n cryin’!”
Bo reached out to soothe the stricken hound, who collapsed onto her side and lay
whimpering. “Uncle Jesse! Uncle Jesse, c’mere! Somethin’s ailin’ Flash!”
Jesse had already overheard them, and Bo moved back out of his uncle’s way. The
old moonshiner knelt down as Bo, Luke, Daisy, Enos and Cooter leaned over in concern.
“Well, now, old girl, what’s got into you? She’s lookin’ kinda fat for a dog that ain’t got
no appetite, ain’t she, Rosco?”
“She’s been eatin’ like a horse for the last while, Jesse, but since yesterday she
done lost her appetite completely…” Rosco gasped. “Oh, Jesse, you don’t think she’s got
into somethin’ poisonous, do you? I mean, I’m real careful, I keep everything locked up,
but–”
“No, no, Rosco. She’d be sick if she done that.” Jesse stroked her gently. “But
she’s hangin’ kinda low, now that I look at her…Rosco, have you ever had her-“
Suddenly Flash cried out as her abdomen convulsed violently. Jesse and Rosco
reached to steady her, but she only grew worse. Rosco’s voice sank to a whisper. “Just
like ol’ Blue…’cause I never seen it comin’…oh, no, Flash, no…don’t do this to me!”
Flash’s belly had split open and dark fluid was gushing out, soaking the Christmas
wrapping. As she whimpered helplessly with pain, a strange, glistening, blood-streaked
balloon oozed forth from her body. Another heave, another cry, and the bloody sac
spilled to the floor, trailing a bloody rope of flesh.
“Jesse, Jesse, do something, she’s dying, she’s dyin’ right here on the floor!” Tears
blurred Rosco’s eyes as he stroked the basset’s heaving side. “It’s okay, Flash, daddy’s
here!” he whispered. “Don’t worry, darlin’! I won’t leave you!”
“Now jest calm down there, Rosco! Don’t get yer britches in a twist! She’s fine!”
“Fine? You call this fine? She’s just spillin’ her insides like a hog at the
slaughterhouse, that’s all!” Rosco stabbed a finger at the squirming, red-streaked sausage
shape that lay beside his dog.
“Rosco, that ain’t one of her insides! Don’t ya get it? Watch what she does now!”
As they all watched in breathless silence, Flash reached back, tore off the slimy sac
and licked the object until out from under her long tongue emerged the scrunched up face
and features of-
“Oh my lord…it…it’s a puppy!”
The hushed silence burst into chorus.
“Aw, look at that!”
“Well, I’ll be-“
“Possum on a gumbush!”
“Good for you, Flash, honey! Oh, ain’t he the cutest thing!”
A slow dawn of joy was breaking over Rosco’s nightmare. “Pups…Flash
darlin’…my Flash…is a momma?”
Jesse nodded. “And she knows exactly what she’s doin’. But she’ll do a lot better
if’n yer calm an’ not leapin’ around like a ‘rangytang! Daisy!”
“Yes, Uncle Jesse?”
“Fetch us some hot water and old towels so’s we can get her cleaned up after.
And fetch some string and a sharp knife in case we gotta cut any of them birthin’ cords.”
“Okay, Uncle Jesse. Should I call Doc McLean?”
“No need to get the vet out at this hour on Christmas eve.” At Rosco’s look of
concern, Jesse patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Rosco. I’ve helped hundreds of young ‘uns
into this world – two legged and four legged. If she needs any help, I’ll see to her. Trust
me.”
Sighing with relief, Rosco nodded, and looked down at the little pup that Flash
was licking. “Will you let me, darlin’?” he whispered, and she stopped and nudged the
pup towards him. He lifted it as though it were made of priceless china. “You little
thing,” he murmured. “You sweet, tiny little thing! Where in the world did you come
from?”
Wet, blind and deaf, the pup stirred at the warmth of Rosco’s hand. It snuffled the
air briefly, then seized his thumb and began to suck greedily.
Cooter chuckled, “I think he needs a better fillin’ station, Rosco. Looks like he’s
runnin’ on empty!”
The sheriff kissed the top of the little dog’s head. “Hey there, little feller! I’d do
anything in the world for you, but I think this is one thing you’re gonna need your momma
for!” Tenderly he laid the pup next to Flash. “They’ll never want for anythin’, darlin’, I
promise you!” he whispered, low enough for only her to hear. Then sitting back, he
dragged his sleeve across his eyes and smiled. “Coo! Look at him take ahold there!”
“Faster than JD at a jug of buttermilk,” quipped Jesse. “Cuter, too. Say, Rosco,
let’s tuck this here blanket around them so’s he and the first pups can keep warm while the
rest is bein’ ’orn. I’ll have the boys build them a proper bed afterwards.”
As Rosco and Jesse worked with the blanket, Luke ventured, “So you never
planned this, Rosco? Wonder who the other dog was?”
“I don’t know, Luke. I don’t know how this coulda happened. She’s never away
from me more than five minutes unless she’s in the patrol car or the office…and there ain’t
any other dogs in there. Boss Hogg wouldn’t stand for it.”
Enos shook his head in wonder. “Lord have mercy, Sheriff, it’s a miracle, just like
the Baby Jesus! One of them Inaccurate Conceptions!”
Luke rolled his eyes. “That’s Immaculate, Enos, and I think the Baby Jesus was
the only one.”
Just then Flash whimpered at a fresh stab of pain. Instinctively Rosco settled her
head in his lap and stroked her. “There, hush, Velvet Ears. Daddy’s here. Sure wish
there was somethin’ I could do help you.”
Jesse smiled. “You are helpin’ her, Rosco. You are.”
Flash whimpered again. “Daisy!” called Bo. “Hurry up in there! I think we got
another one comin’!”
“Jit! Jit! Sure is! Here it comes!”
Flashed heaved again and a second pup began to spill forth just as Daisy came
rushing with the water and towels. “Thank goodness the kettle was still hot. How many
we got now?”
“We just got us two!” answered Bo, as with Jesse’s direction, Rosco helped guide
the second pup free and gave it to its mother. “Say, Uncle Jesse, how many you think
she’s got in there?”
“No way of knowin’. Could be two more, could be eight more. Just have to wait
and see.”
Enos giggled excitedly. “Imagine that! Ten little hushpuppies, all trippin’ over
they ears!”
“Or are they hushpuppies?” said Bo. “We still don’t know what the daddy was.
He coulda been a great dane, for all we know!”
“A great dane! Flash, you rascal, daddy’s gonna have to have a talk with you!
How are we gonna fit a whole pack of great danes in the patrol car?”
Jesse considered. “Well, it musta happened near about two months ago, ‘round
Halloween.”
“Two months?” said Luke. “Say…wasn’t that when the Bandit and Sheriff Justice
passed through here?
“Sure was, Luke, but dangit, what does that have to do with Flash here getting
pregant?”
“The Bandit’s friend, the one who called hisself the Snowman. He had a dog, Bo,
remember? Old Fred!”
“Oh yeah! But he was never nowheres near Flash.”
“Oh, yes he was!” Luke grinned at Enos, whose jaw was slowly sinking to the
floor. “When the Snowman and me was locked up in the jail, Enos took ol’ Fred up to
visit Flash while he went to get us some lunch…boy, no wonder them dogs was trying so
hard to get at each other. I bet they could hardly wait til Enos got outta the room!”
Everyone roared with laughter except Enos. “An ol’ Fred was a basset hound,”
laughed Bo. “They’s purebred hushpuppies all right!”
Cooter was laughing so hard he nearly kicked over his coffee. “Oh, Flash, did I
say you was a lady? You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog!”
It was a few moments before poor Enos could even find his voice. “Possum on a
gumbush, Sheriff, I sure am sorry for getting’ poor Flash here in the family way! Can you
ever forgive me?”
“Are you kidding me, you dipstick? This is the best Christmas present I ever had!”
Rosco was alternately laughing and crying, and gave a whoop as another pup emerged.
“Khee! Khee! Khee! That makes three now! Atta girl, Flash! Oh, ain’t they beautiful!”
“They sure are, Rosco,” Daisy agreed. “Like you said–a real fine Christmas
present.”
Bo grinned. “A Christmas present courtesy of a Snowman-not to mention Smokey
and the Bandit!”
Laughter filled the little house and floated out into the surrounding night.
And somewhere over the hush of the wind came the echo of the horn of an
eighteen-wheeler, like a distant Gabriel’s trumpet.

END