On Christmas Eve, Barnaby padded into the living room. Five dogs gathered around a glowing book. He settled beside the smallest pup, blocking the chilly window draft.
The pages flipped by themselves. They stopped at a snowy forest and one red door. Five soft gasps chimed together.
Barnaby touched the red door with his nose. It shimmered, opened, and breathed out pine-scented air. The dogs leaned closer.
One nose made a jingle. Another made a laugh. A third made a strange bark. The smallest pup yipped when invisible fingers tickled her nose.
A heavy thump sounded overhead. Barnaby pressed his nose to the page. Golden light spiraled out and wrapped around all six dogs.
They tumbled into soft snow beneath a sky full of stars. Santa’s sleigh hovered overhead, enormous, glittering, and real.
The lead reindeer sneezed. Sparkles landed on Barnaby’s nose, and he sneezed right back. Bells rang across the snow.
Thump! The book snapped shut. The six dogs landed together on the rug, tangled in fur, paws, and wagging tails.
Moonlight crossed the rug. Bells faded above the roof. Barnaby rested his chin on his paws while his friends breathed softly.
The book fluttered once. Then it fell still, beneath the fading bells.