The First Gift Tag

A small gift tag lay on the low table. Beside it were the red book with its green bookmark and the two mugs from their cosy evening. Puschel held the red pencil. Today he wanted to make a tag for a surprise that would be given later.

Puschel“First, the name. And underneath, I’ll write what’s ins—” He stopped halfway through the sentence. Flauschi smiled and raised a paw to her mouth. Flauschi“If you write that, the surprise will have unwrapped itself before Christmas.”

Puschel looked at his little tag. Puschel“Perhaps I was just being very thorough.” Flauschi“The name is enough. You can save the rest for later.” She turned a little to one side so that he could carry on in peace.

Puschel lowered his pencil again. Then his ears perked up. Puschel“What if I read it aloud by mistake?” Flauschi giggled. Flauschi“You can stop halfway through. Just as you did a moment ago.” Puschel nodded happily. At least that had already worked once.

Soon the tag said only who the little gift was for. What Puschel had thought of remained his secret. Flauschi did not ask. Even friendly curiosity could wait.

Outside, autumn leaves glowed beyond the round window. Puschel put the pencil beside the spare tags. Puschel“Finished. And I haven’t given anything away!” Flauschi“Almost anything.” They both laughed. One little gift tag was enough preparation for today.