Dear Santa, for Christmas this year, I would love a dog. One just like my grandma’s dog, Mr. Harry.

Dear Santa, I was thinking I would like a Poodle. I heard they’re hypoallergenic. I think Dad would like a Poodle.

Dear Santa, if you can’t bring a dog, how about a hamster? I just read a book about a hamster named Humphry. Humphry was no dog, but I think I could be very happy with a hamster.

Dear Santa, when you bring my perfect puppy, I promise to pick up lots of poop from the yard.

The day after Thanksgiving is the official start of the Christmas season in the Mullin family. We spend the morning trudging through the cold Christmas tree farm on the hunt for the specimen. The evening is dedicated to decorating the tree with the plethora of goofy ornaments my parents have collected for more than twenty years.

I was eight, and after hanging the last ornament, I dashed up to my room to begin a vital top-secret project. I whipped out my pen and paper to begin writing: Dear Santa. Until Christmas Eve, I would produce countless letters on my crusade for a dog. At my height, I wrote multiple times a week to the North Pole, and Santa faithfully returned every letter. I became so enthralled in the process that I asked if Santa was in the market for a pen pal. Looking back, writing Santa letters had become a part-time job for my dear mother.

I tried my hardest to suppress any expectations, but as the twenty-fifth approached, I became giddy. Christmas Day arrived, and I waited with bated breath at the top of the stairs. As I descended, my heart dropped. There was no wagging tail or fuzzy face. I put on my best not-at-all-disappointed face and sat down around the tree surrounded by family. When nearly the last present had been opened, I spied an unassuming envelope situated off to the side.

Dear Abigail, I have talked to your parents, and they have decided that your family could use a four-legged friend, a Vizsla. I felt like Ralphie discovering his Red Ryder BB gun in The Christmas Story.

We wouldn’t pick up Puddle till September. Those nine months felt eternal, but since laying my eyes on that wrinkly ginger puppy, I have been obsessed with her.

Leaving for College, the fear of homesickness never occurred to me. I had no shortage of worries ranging from anxiety about college coursework to concerns about making new friends. The one element of home I truly miss is Puddle. I appreciate the random photos of her my family will send, but it’s no replacement for napping on the couch together.

At first, I was ashamed to admit that I missed my dog more than my parents. What kind of person feels that way? It boils down to the idea of leaving. She is one of the only things I truly left behind. Between postcards, FaceTime, messages, and WhatsApp, I don’t feel profoundly disconnected from my life in Pittsburgh. Taking these photographs has been a source of connection with this element of home I have left behind.

Talking to strangers made me apprehensive, but I quickly came to appreciate the ease of these conversations. Speaking to someone on a topic they love is remarkable. For a moment, a stranger lets you into their world.

Phil & Bodie, the way Phil talked about Bodie was extremely sweet and might not fit with people’s assumptions about Phil

With Rusty’s owner, we bonded over our adoration for ginger dogs. When I approached Bowdie and Phil, I was surprised by the softness Phil embodied.

Hearing about Luna’s owner, who is a busy Oxford PhD, I appreciated the way communities show up for each other. Meeting Phoebe, I was viscerally reminded of time with my mom. Not a feeling of homesickness but one of love and nostalgia.

I began to spot the small signs of dogs within the Oxford community. Like water bowls and free treats.

Dachshunds are my favorite breed, and I was determined to find one to include in my project. I spied them out the window of a Chipotle and dashed out of the restaurant to meet them.

While I was inspired by something that I miss, taking these pictures has forced me to appreciate the wonderful people, places, and dogs right here in Oxford.