The Dog Town Collection

by Sandy Rideout

  “That was Nika. But the guy was an ass.”

  “He was doing his job. Do you think he wanted to come out there and tell you that?” Sighing, Mike ran one hand through his red hair. “Like I said, Bee, things are changing. You have to be more—I don’t know—tactful?”

  “Strategic is the word you want.”

  They looked up to see another redhead. Duff had overheard at least part of the conversation.

  “That word would do nicely, Andrea,” Mike said. “Great to see you.”

  “Call me Duff. You’re the only one in Dog Town who doesn’t.”

  “You just don’t look like a Duff to me.”

  “She looks like a Duff to us,” one of the firefighters called.

  “Easy boys,” she called. “Maybe I’ll let you buy me a coffee later.”

  Bridget saw how that was going and called, “No ‘bottomless’ jokes, guys. This is my best friend.”

  Bridget glanced at Grace’s table and found she’d left before getting her next two refills. Hopefully she’d still tipped, because every cent counted these days.

  “Bee.” Duff tapped her shoulder. “Mike and I are worried about you. He’s confirming the scuttlebutt I heard about City Council getting more antsy and controlling.”

  Mike stood and shook Duff’s hand, as if to signal a passing of the torch. “Gotta run. Talk soon.”

  Bridget watched him go before facing Duff. “Go easy, please. I’m upset as it is.”

  Duff’s blue eyes were sympathetic. “You’ve got to soften those edges, Bee.”

  “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

  “You do it here all the time,” Duff said. “Your customers love you.”

  Glancing around, Bridget sighed. “That’s different.”

  “Why? It’s like you have one rule here, and another for everywhere else.”

  It was true, Bridget realized. She felt safe at the bistro and always had. No matter how tiring and frustrating the work, it was her turf. Everywhere else it felt like she had a target on her back, so she’d developed a thick skin. Obviously, it came off the wrong way.

  Sighing, she rested her head in her hands. “What do you want me to do, Duff?”

  Her friend patted her shoulder. “Let me think about it, and we’ll talk when there aren’t so many distractions. For now, all you need to do is be nice.”

  “Be nice? I’d rather stab my eyes out with a dull knife.” She grabbed one off the counter for emphasis, and Duff pressed her hand down.

  Voices rose behind her.

  “Be right there, Trent,” she called. “Hang tight.”

  “See how easy that was?” Duff asked. “All you need to do is spread that sunshine around.”

  Bridget got up and grabbed her tray. “Why do I get the feeling I’m in for a makeover?”

  Duff laughed. “They’re not just for dogs anymore.”

  A bare branch snapped out of Bridget’s hand and nearly hit Nika in the face. “Sorry, Nika,” she said, forging on along the narrow path through the woods. In summer this trail had probably been almost impenetrable, but it had thinned now.

  “Bee, this is a bad idea,” Nika said. “It’ll be dark soon and— Oh my god, burrs! Do not bring the other dogs out here. Maisie will kill you if they get burred.”

  Bridget pulled Beau closer to keep him on the path. “It’ll be fine. We’ll keep this short and sweet. I’ll be nice, just like Duff ordered.”

  “No way Duff sanctioned this visit. Not buying it.” Nika yanked her coat out of the bushes. “Ouch. Thorns. Is there a reason we couldn’t just take the car?”

  “Element of surprise. I’m the lion, Nika.” Bridget tripped over a root and made a nice recovery. “See? I always land on my paws.”

  Nika snorted. “What’s with the safari talk?”

  “It’s survival of the fittest, Duff said. She told me to be the lion, not the gazelle.”

  “But she also told you to be nice? I’m not sure I’m following.” Nika was puffing from trying to keep up over the rough terrain.

  Bridget glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s complicated. For now, we’re being nice on the outside and fierce on the inside. That’s how I’m interpreting it.”

  “Well, I’m guessing Duff would have wanted to supervise this safari. But it looks like we’re here now.”

  The trail widened slightly and then spit them out onto a long driveway. At the bottom was a house similar to Bridget’s but painted a sunny yellow. She scowled at the sleek sportscar parked near the door of the rustic cottage. It belonged downtown with the new condo he was developing along Lake Longmuir. When she interviewed him two years ago, he’d lived in that area.

  Walking down the driveway, she saw the place was well kept. The gardens were filled with orange and yellow chrysanthemums, and a rake stood against a shed beside bags of leaves. A wheelbarrow filled with logs sat by the stairs. There was even a harvest wreath on the door. Why would he bother with all that if he wanted to knock down both their houses and build something huge and completely at odds with the neighborhood?

  Beau’s tail dropped with every step until it practically dusted the wood on the deck. “I couldn’t agree more, pal,” Bridget said.

  “Pardon me?” Nika asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” Bridget opened the screen door and used the brass doorknocker shaped like a hound’s head. Once. Twice. Three times. She was going for a fourth when the door swung open.

  “Hey.” Sullivan Shaw stood in the open doorway. His hair was unruly and his sweatpants baggy, yet he somehow managed to look better than ever. “Here to borrow a cup of sugar? How sweet.”

  Nika laughed a little too hard at this and Bridget elbowed her into silence.

  “I don’t have time for baking these days,” Bridget said. Her heart was still beating hard from the walk. She must be getting out of shape.

  “Sorry to hear that.” He leaned out and checked for her car. “You walked through the bush to talk about cupcakes?”

  “Actually, no.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I walked through the bush to ask why you called the CCD on me.”

  His brow furrowed. “And the CCD is…?”

  “The Canine Corrections Department. As if you don’t know.”

  Leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms. “So you think I called animal services because Fritz tipped my garbage? Wouldn’t that be an overreaction?”

  “It most certainly would be. I was surprised that you did.”

  “And now you can be surprised that I didn’t.”

  “The dog cop said a neighbor complained and you’re the closest one. And the only one who’s even met me.”

  Now Sullivan offered his annoying smirk. “I imagine you’ve annoyed a few people in Dog Town, Bridget. I can’t be the only one.”

  “You’re the only one with—”

  “A real bone to pick? Possibly. But I managed to cope with picking up my trash, and even with Fritz assaulting me in the hills.”

  “Fritz assaulted him?” Nika asked.

  “He likes him. God knows why.”

  Sullivan’s teeth flashed. “There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”

  Bridget looked away. His smile was an unwelcome distraction. “Look, I just want you to know that calling the CCD could ruin my hopes for expanding my business.”

  Nika moved closer and gave Bridget a warning pinch. But the damage was already done.

  Sullivan pushed himself upright and filled the doorway. “Expanding how?”

  Bridget tried to correct course. “I just want my pageant to get bigger and better every year, that’s all. Having the CCD breathing down my neck isn’t going to help.”

  “I’d only have reason to call them if your dogs were a nuisance. Well, more of a nuisance. Fritz is okay, but this big guy is just—”

  “Wait, don’t—” Nika began.

  “Creepy,” Sullivan finished.

  “Excuse me?” Bridget’s voice was low, and Beau’s growl
underscored it.

  “Make that menacing,” Sullivan said.

  “You wouldn’t know a great dog if—”

  “It bit me? I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Bridget, that’s enough. Your lion is showing.” Nika grabbed her friend’s elbow and pulled her away. “It was nice seeing you, Sullivan. Thanks for not calling the CCD.”

  “Oh, he called,” Bridget said, as Nika towed her down the stairs. “He wants me out of that house so he can take over.”

  “Oh, Bridget, move on,” he said. “I have.”

  Bridget resisted, and Beau took little jumps at Nika but she kept her grip till they got to the path.

  “Both of you stop it and be gazelles,” Nika said. “Or he really will call the CCD.”

  Sullivan came out to the steps in bare feet, laughing as they wrestled. “Thanks for the show. It’s like ‘Wild Kingdom’ or something.”

  “Big picture, Bridget. Big picture,” Nika said, urging her friend on with little shoves in the shoulder. “One day you’ll have a nice kennel in that barn and forty rescue dogs. If we have to bake Sullivan Shaw cupcakes to get there, that is what we shall do.”

  “Never. I have pride, Nika.”

  “Lions have prides, right? Let’s talk about that.”

  Chapter 11

  Training Day, the first public event leading up to the pageant, was always nerve-wracking, but never more than this year. Now, in addition to worrying about all the things that could go wrong with a cast of furry characters, Bridget worried for the first time about the people. Specifically, with Mayor Bradshaw scheduled to attend, she worried he’d be judging her, when this day was supposed to be all about her judging everyone else.

  “A perfect Saturday afternoon,” Duff said. “Let’s hope everything else goes to plan.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Bridget said, as she helped Cori set up plastic barriers in the sunny south corner of Seaton Dog Park. “I don’t know why.”

  “Performance anxiety,” Duff said. “Looks like we’re going to have a big crowd.”

  People had started gathering early, and Bridget scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Trent and a couple of the firefighters from Boners were already there. Remi and Tiller waved from a picnic table, where they were sitting so close together a breeze couldn’t squeeze through. Tonna Rafferty, who ran Beta Dogs, an upscale doggie day care, headed toward Cori to lend a hand. Bridget didn’t love all of Cori’s friends, but Tonna was funny and surprisingly elegant for someone who supervised a pack for a living. Even Arianna Torrance, a stunning blonde dog breeder, had shown up. They didn’t know each other well, but Bridget recognized a kindred spirit when she met one: Ari was as attached to her large poodle hybrid as Bridget was to Beau.

  “This has to be double the size of last year’s crowd,” Bridget said.

  “Everything will be fine, Bee,” Cori said, pushing six leashes into her hand. “We’ve got your back.”

  Bridget nodded, and focussed on the dogs. That always worked to ground her. In this case, however, the six dogs were all graduates from Cori’s personal training program, and needed little attention. So, she appraised the park instead. It was new, huge and little more than a fenced patch of land. After years of pressure from the Seaton Neighborhood Committee, the former mayor had granted permission for the build just before he left office. Seaton had never felt much love from City Hall before. It had been one of the rougher neighborhoods since long before Dorset Hills became Dog Town. In fact, the dog-crazy sentiment hadn’t penetrated here as it had elsewhere. While there were plenty of dog owners, Bridget suspected they had more to worry about than luxury dog care and accoutrements.

  “This space is perfect,” Nika said, as she joined them. “There’s room for a crowd and yet the dogs are completely safe.”

  “It’s safe, but it doesn’t have the glitz factor Mike said the mayor wants,” Bridget said.

  Cori rolled her eyes before kneeling to release the dogs one by one. “Glitz? Really?”

  “Politicians care about optics,” Duff said, lifting her eyes from the iPad she was using to keep track of the agenda. “And this place is nothing but fenced dirt.”

  Cori stood, bristling. “That’s why I proposed it. This event will bring attention to an area that really needs it.”

  Bridget tried to do that with every pageant. It hadn’t started off as a crusade but evolved that way. Somehow it seemed fitting to hold her events in neighborhoods that truly embraced mutts. There was scarcely a purebred to be seen in Seaton. Yet the local dogs deserved a great place to run.

  “I know, Cori, and personally, I agree with you,” Duff said. “But it’s last year’s thinking. We’re in a new era now.”

  Cori made a face. “This new era sucks.”

  “It was too late to find another training site anyway,” Bridget said. “It’s bad enough that we have to hold the pageant in the hills. Honestly.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sold on the hills,” Duff said. “Leave that to me, Bee. I’m going to try charming the mayor today.”

  “Good luck with that.” Catching herself, Bridget grinned slyly. “I mean, if anyone could do it, you can, Duff. You look great today.”

  “Nice save,” Duff said, grinning back. “Don’t waste the sweet talk on me. Save it for the mayor.”

  “If he actually acknowledges I exist, I will do my best. Am I the lion or the gazelle today? Nika and I were struggling with the analogy the other day.”

  Duff rolled her eyes. “I’ll play dumb to your stupid, Bee. The idea of being a lion is simply to stay in the game and compete like you mean it. Being nice is one tactic for winning.”

  “Fake,” Cori said. “Fake-ity fake fake fake.”

  “Smart,” Duff countered. “And that’s why Bridget put me in charge of strategy.”

  Cori’s sharp brown eyes widened. “Seriously, Bee? Duff doesn’t know dogs.”

  “Duff knows people,” Bridget said. “You and I know dogs, but that’s not enough anymore. We’re in a whole new dog park, Cori. Part of being a good leader is recognizing what you don’t know. And I don’t know politics.”

  “It’s just a matter of carving up the work to suit our skills,” Duff said. “Cori, your training demos are always a huge hit. Now you can focus only on that. Bridget can focus on selecting the final contenders. Nika can manage the spectators, and Maisie can help keep things organized while I manage the VIPs.”

  Cori sniffed disdainfully. “We used to be above this sort of bull—”

  Duff interrupted. “Keep an eye on the long game. If this goes well, you get to rescue and train more abandoned dogs. Bridget gets to have the kennel she’s always wanted. And I get to see my friends succeed at their dreams.”

  Bridget gave Cori a pleading look. “I trust Duff’s judgement in this, Cori, just as I trust yours where training is concerned. Now, go do what you do best.”

  “Fine,” Cori said, heading off to the opposite corner, where Tonna and a couple of others had erected a hay bale enclosure.

  Nika and Maisie got people settled behind portable barriers, and Duff walked briskly to the center of the park with Bridget.

  “Welcome to the ninth annual pre-pageant event,” Duff called. “I’m Andrea MacDuff, and you all know Bridget Linsmore.” She motioned to Bridget, who took a deep bow as applause swelled. “Today we’ll select 24 human finalists for the pageant by putting them through their paces in the training ring. Next week, we’ll be back, same time, same place, to reveal the 12 canine finalists. Five days after that, of course, is Thanksgiving and the pageant itself. Make sure you follow us on social media to get the breaking pageant details.” She turned with a big smile. “Bridget…?”

  “This year’s event promises to be the best ever,” Bridget said. “Honestly, the thought of parting with these 12 dogs makes me very sad—and happy for 12 of you. We’re putting the final touches on them now. I’m eager to see how you do in the training ring today with the demonstration do
gs. Don’t be nervous. We’re not looking for expert skills—just a good attitude and that special something that sets true dog lovers apart.”

  Duff gestured with a flourish toward the hay bales. “We have a surprise today. Cori Hogan, our pro trainer, is going to show off her skills with her border collie, Clem. Few of us will reach this pinnacle of connection with our dogs, but it shows us what’s possible.”

  A huge cheer went up and Bridget and Duff moved behind the barricade with the contestants.

  Cori kicked down the hay bales and released three sheep into the park. They ran out and gathered in the center. Cori came after them with Clem, her black-and-white border collie. He was the smartest dog Bridget had ever encountered, and the best trained. In the past three years, Cori and Clem had travelled to herding competitions all over the country and brought back a dozen trophies. She had never thought to exploit this talent… but Duff had.

  With a series of whistles and hand gestures, Cori led Clem to maneuver the sheep around the dog park, taking them past the audience. There were oohs and aahs and cheers, none of which fazed Clem in the least. He had a job to do and he did it superbly, becoming a small black-and-white blur, up, down, circling, dodging left and right, a little nip here and there, to keep the sheep moving in the right direction. By the time the show was over, the sheep were back in the enclosure and the hay bales went up again. Cori threw down a bale, hopped on top with Clem and did a sweeping bow. The applause was deafening.

  “You’re a freaking genius,” Bridget told Duff.

  “Tell me that after Thanksgiving,” she said.

  A ‘pit crew’ composed of the Rescue Mafia and half a dozen others quickly moved barriers to make a pen in the middle of the dog park. Nika and Maisie lined up nearly forty pageant contestants and brought six forward. One of them was Trixie Dayton, Beau’s favorite. She bounced on her toes from excitement.

  Meanwhile, Cori brought over the demonstration dogs from their pen. They were as calm and cool as the ponies hired out for kids’ parties. Bombproof. Most were retriever crosses, and it was no wonder so many with these genes made great service dogs.