Disclaimer: Not mine. Making no money.
He doesn't remember that it's the 25th of December until the tropical sun through the blinds wakes him up, and he immediately regrets losing track of time. He'd hoped to be back with the captain and professor by now, anticipating far too much Christmas dinner. The disappointment lasts until he gets up and almost treads on the bone that's been left beside his bed. It's a thigh bone - too large to belong to any living animal and too fresh to be a fossil. It looks like an adventure.
"Merry Christmas, Snowy," he says, smiling.
The dog wags his tail.
The End