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the road for a 138-mile trip to Grand Island.
    Twice more that day she was passed along, arriving in Lincoln, Nebraska, after dark and so tired that she curled up in the first doggie bed she saw despite the growls of its rightful owner.
    With a gift of a new wicker sleeping basket and a note: “Happy to be part of the chain reuniting Snoopy with her family,” Nebraska passed the little dog on to Iowa. After a change of car and driver in Des Moines, Snoopy sped on and by nightfall was in Cedar Rapids.
    At nightfall of her fifth day on the road, Snoopy was in Chicago, her next-to-last stop. Whether it was that she was getting close to home or just because her cold had run its course, she was clearly better. Indeed, the vet who examined her told the reporters that, “For an old lady who’s been traveling all week and has come more than 1,300 miles, she’s in grand shape. She’s going to make it home tomorrow just fine.” The Topps, watching the nightly update of Snoopy’s journey on the Fort Wayne TV station, broke into cheers.
    The next day was Saturday, March 17th. In honor of Saint Patrick’s Day, the little dog sported a new green coat with a green derby pinned to the collar. The Chicago press did one last interview with her, and then Snoopy had nothing to do but nap until Rod’s assistant, Skip, arrived from Fort Wayne to drive her the 160 miles home.
    Hours before Snoopy and Skip were expected in Fort Wayne, the Topps were waiting excitedly at the humane shelter. Jodi and Matthew worked on a room-sized banner that, when it was unfurled, read: WELCOME HOME, SNOOPY! FROM ROCK SPRINGS, WYOMING, TO FORT WAYNE, INDIANA, VIA THE PUPPY EXPRESS, with her route outlined across the bottom and their signatures in the corner. Reporters from the Fort Wayne TV stations and newspaper, the Topps, friends and family and the shelter’s staff all crowded into the shelter’s waiting room.
    Somewhere amid the fuss and confusion, Rod found time to draw Nancy aside and give her word that Snoopy would be arriving home with her boarding bill marked “Paid in Full.” An anonymous friend of the Humane Society in Casper had taken care of it.
    Then the CB radio crackled, and Skip’s voice filled the crowded room. “Coming in! The Puppy Express is coming in!”
    Nancy and Joe and the children rushed out in the subfreezing air, the reporters on their heels. Around the corner came the pickup truck, lights flashing, siren sounding. “Snoopy’s home!” screamed the children. “Snoopy’s home!”
    And there the little dog was, sitting up on the front seat in her St. Patrick’s day outfit, peering nearsightedly out of the window at all the commotion. After two months of separation from her family, after a week on the road, after traveling across five states for 1,500 miles in the company of strangers, Snoopy’s odyssey was over.
    Nancy got to the truck first. In the instant before she snatched the door open, Snoopy recognized her. Barking wildly, she scrambled across the seat and into Nancy’s arms. Then Joe was there, and the children. Laughing, crying, they hugged Snoopy and each other. The family that didn’t give up on even its smallest member was back together again.
    Jo Coudert

When Snowball Melted
    H ope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
And never stops at all.
    Emily Dickinson
    Lovebirds . That’s what all our friends called us when we first married.
    I guess Don and I deserved it. Money was tight because we were both full-time students, working to pay our way through school. Sometimes we’d have to save up days just for an ice cream cone. Still, our tiny, drab apartment seemed like paradise. Love does that, you know.
    Anyway, the more we heard the term “lovebirds,” the more we thought about birds. And one day we started saving up for a couple of lovebirds of our own: the feathery kind. We knew we couldn’t afford to buy both birds and a nice cage, so in his