Chapter Three
“HOW ARE THE NEW recruits?” Steven asked.
Shirley pushed her unruly gray hair back over her ear and looked over the kennels of dogs, though she had already assessed them herself. None of them were barking or standing up against the chain link. They were sitting or standing, watching her and Steven with interest. Not too hyper, not noisy or aggressive. But on the same note, none of them were just lying down sleeping, either. Ears pointing forward, they had a healthy interest in what the humans around them were doing. She was happy with the initial lot.
“Pretty good,” she said, hands on hips. “The SPCA is doing a better job at prescreening them now. We don’t get any that are obviously incompatible. Which is great, because our training program can be spent on training dogs with the aptitude for it instead of on initial prescreening.”
“Excellent. Glad to hear it. Do we have complete histories on all of them?”
“No, not all of them. Some are strays with unknown pasts, or transfers from out of the city, and we don’t have extensive histories for them. But we’ll watch them carefully. We’ll know if there are any problems. Are you going to stick around for some of the training?”
“I’d like to see them put through their paces,” he agreed. “I won’t stay for long, but I’d like to see the quality of dogs we’re getting.”
“Sure. Just stay to the side and don’t try to interact with them.”
He nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Shirley motioned to her handlers.
“Okay, let’s get the first round of dogs out,” she instructed. “Then gather around for a minute.”
They took the first half dozen dogs out of their kennels, attached leashes, and gathered around Shirley. She was happy to see none of the dogs tried to make a break for it before their leashes were on. While some of them were interested in exploring or in greeting the dogs next to them, none of them yanked on their leashes. They all stuck close to the side of their handlers on a short leash and didn’t complain.
“Great. This looks like a good bunch,” Shirley acknowledged. “First, let’s test their knowledge of basic commands and their obedience. Verbal commands only; sit, stay, heel, and so on. Take them through their paces and see if there are any initial problems.”
The handlers spread out across the compound to do as she had instructed. Shirley walked around, watching the dogs for any sign of problems. They didn’t want dogs that were aggressive. They needed dogs that obeyed immediately and didn’t have to be told more than once. It was important to have a good foundation to begin with.
She watched Christine handling a beautiful German shepherd. She was a new trainer, a twenty-something strawberry blond who seemed to possess the necessary intelligence and animal empathy for the job. The shepherd was an apt pupil, engaged and interested, obeying Christine’s commands. Obviously not a show dog; when commanded to heel, he didn’t walk as closely to her as a show dog would, and his pace was slightly uneven as he watched the other dogs around him. Not quite distracted, but definitely aware and interested.
“Down, ” Christine told him firmly. “Stay.”
The dog lay down as he was told, resting his chin in his paws. Christine watched him for a moment to see if he was going to bound up again the moment she broke eye contact. She dropped the leash, turned, and walked away from him. The dog raised his head, watching her walk away with bright interest. He didn’t get to his feet or try to creep after her. He didn’t whine or bark. But he didn’t go to sleep, either. He watched her walk out of sight behind a fence and waited for her to return. Some time passed, and he continued to watch intently for her return. A couple of times, he turned his head to watch another dog who got close to him, but he turned back to watch for Christine’s return.
After a few minutes, Christine appeared from behind the fence and walked back to him. He thumped his tail on the ground appreciatively, but he didn’t get up or move toward her. Christine picked up the leash.
“Good boy,” she praised. “Sit.”
He sat back up, wagging his tail.
“Nice dog,” Shirley approved.
Christine nodded. “Isn’t he a sweetie? He seems pretty well-trained on the basics. Do you want me to try him on hand signals?”
“No, spend a bit more time on foundation. We’ll keep everybody on the same schedule for now.”
“Sure, no problem.” She looked back at the dog. “Heel!”
She took off briskly across the compound, weaving around other dogs and pylons. The shepherd stuck close behind her.
“Okay,” Shirley addressed the group of handlers. “For those of you with nameless dogs, I need you to choose a name soon. We want to get them used to them as soon as possible. We only want them to obey commands when they are given by their usual partner or by name. We don’t want a perp to be able to tell them to lie down. It needs to be something short and clear. Something that can be whispered or yelled and be understood equally either way. And it needs to be an appropriate name. We don’t want the perp to fall down laughing when he hears your dog’s name!”
Shirley looked at Christine.
“What are you calling your dog?”
“I thought maybe ‘Bandit,’” Christine suggested.
“Bandit catches the bandits, huh? Well, I suppose it’s better than Killer. Get him used to it.”
“I will.”
“How’s he been doing?”
“Good. Seems to be a good pupil. Obeys pretty well; seems eager to learn.”
“Shepherds are good police dogs. They like to please you. They have lots of intelligence. Pick things up quickly.”
Christine nodded.
When Christine took Bandit off of his leash, she broke the rules just a bit. She got down and cuddled him and scratched his ears, talking baby talk. She knew she was supposed to be the alpha dog and demand his respect, but she loved him and was impressed with his desire to please.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Bandit?” she crooned.
She fed him a few treats she had kept secreted away in her pocket. “You’ve been such a good boy. You’re such a good learner. Aren’t you? I don’t know why anyone would let you go to the pound. It’s a crime.” She giggled to herself. “Well, now you’re the crime fighter, right?”
Someone walked into the hall, and she quickly stood up and put Bandit into his kennel.
“There you go, boy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He went in and sat down, watching her latch the gate again. He whined in the back of his throat so softly she almost couldn’t hear it.
“Night night. Have a good sleep. Tomorrow we’ll go fight some crime.”
Chapter Four
BRENDA LOVED HAVING A dog in the house. And Jake was the perfect family pet. He was never aggressive toward her or the kids. He was happiest just lying and watching her work. He was usually obedient, though sometimes he refused to lie down when she asked him to. And she had caught him a few times sleeping in Darren’s spot on the couch instead of in his doggie bed. He went contritely to his bed when she told him off, but the look he gave her once he was lying down in his bed… she sometimes wondered just what he was thinking. It was almost as if he was trying to usurp Darren’s place or to demonstrate to Brenda his disdain for his master.
Darren had little to do with the dog, but that was okay. They had understood when they started this whole thing he really was not a dog person. It would be her job to look after him and make sure Jake had everything he needed. She certainly never thought Darren was going to take Jake out for walks or pick up his poop.
Bubba was both grossed out and fascinated by Jake’s feces, thinking it was the greatest joke in the world that they had to follow the dog around and pick up his poop. What could be more hilarious for a four-year-old boy? Cassy turned up her little pug nose and would have nothing to do with the picking up after such a disgusting animal. She only wanted to deal with Jake when they were inside. She loved to dress him
in a bonnet and take pictures of him, his long-suffering eyes rolling up to the ceiling.
The kids were both off to preschool. Brenda quickly changed into her running clothes. It seemed like the half-day they were gone was shorter and shorter every day. When they had first started preschool, it had seemed like they were gone forever. She would be watching the clock, waiting for preschool to end and for them to be home. But she had grown used to her alone time, and there were so many things she put off for when she was alone and could do them without interruption. She was trying to get back into running, and like she’d told her mother, the dog was good incentive. Jake loved to go running with her.
He heard her getting the jogging stroller out and came into the room, watching her with thoughtful eyes.
“Yes, you’re right, we’re going out for a run, Jake,” Brenda told him. “Do you want to go out for a run?”
He whined an answer.
“Good. You stay, and I’ll get Erin and the leash.”
He stayed put until she put the leash on him, then began dancing around happily, playing with the lead and being goofy. Brenda laughed.
“You’re such a clown,” she told him.
She got the jogger and the dog out the door and started off slowly. The day was brisk and clear. She started out with a slow warm-up pace. Jake was prancing beside her and pulling on the lead, wanting to go faster.
“Wait a bit, Jakey. I have to get warmed up first. You don’t want me to injure myself and have to go home.”
Jake looked at her reproachfully. Go home already?
“That’s right; you don’t want to, do you? So be a good boy and just run nice until I get up to speed.”
She pushed the stroller along ahead of her, enjoying the fresh breeze. She soon left the city streets to get to one of the riverside pathways they enjoyed so much. She knew she was lucky to live in a town with such a beautiful pathway system. She could go for hours without having to run on a city street until it was time to go home again. Of course, she didn’t have hours to run and hadn’t yet built up her endurance to that level. But she could when she was in better shape and had the time.
After a few minutes, she was loosened up, and she picked up her pace a bit. Jake ran beside her, loving stretching his muscles, actually getting to run like a dog was meant to. His tongue hung out as he ran, and Brenda wondered if his tongue didn’t get dry and gritty running with his mouth wide open. But if so, he didn’t seem to mind.
After running for a while, Brenda slowed for a break. Erin was starting to sound cross, and they were at a park with a water fountain so she could stop and rehydrate. She let Jake off the leash.
“Off-leash area, Jake. But you have to stay close, or I’ll get in trouble.”
He huffed at her, excited to run free.
“Do you want a drink first?” Brenda suggested, moving to the fountain.
He turned and looked at her for a moment, then conceded to come over to the fountain. He stood on his hind legs, tail wagging slowly, and waited for Brenda to turn it on. Brenda obliged, and he lapped at the water mid-air. She wasn’t sure how much he got, but it was better than nothing.
“Okay, go explore,” she told him. “But only for five minutes, then we’re going to run some more.”
He stepped down, and Brenda had a drink while he went to investigate the various trees and shrubs in the small park. Brenda bent over the jogger to talk to Erin.
“And what are you fussing about? Here you get this nice free ride, get to watch the world go by with no effort of your own, and you’re complaining?”
Erin whined and grumbled, and Brenda dug out some baby crackers and put them on her tray.
“Just a few, because you can’t eat while I’m running. I can’t see your face, and wouldn’t know if you were choking.”
Erin grabbed one of the crackers and started to gum it. Brenda stood up, pushing her hair back from her face. She looked around to see what Jake was up to. He was lying down in the grass and leaves, sneaking up on a squirrel foraging in the open area. Brenda chuckled about the big dog thinking he was a mighty hunter. Dogs were always too excited when they treed a squirrel. Never mind a three-year-old boy could do the same thing. When a dog did it, it was something special. She watched Jake, waiting for him to dash out into the opening and scare the squirrel up the tree. Jake crept closer and closer, hardly rustling the leaves. He was a much better hunter than Brenda would have guessed.
Then with a loud bark, he leaped into the air and landed on top of the squirrel. Brenda let out a shout.
“Jake, no!” she yelled. She ran toward him. “Don’t kill it, Jake! No!”
She was far too late. She had underestimated his abilities, and she was too late. He had killed the squirrel on landing and was now savaging his prize, grimly pleased with himself. Brenda ran up to take it away from him. He snarled when she got close. Brenda realized taking his kill away from him was not a good idea right now. She knew better than that! But in all the years she had grown up with dogs, she had not seen them kill. All her dogs had been city dogs, with little hunting instinct. Comfortable inside the house, not out in the wild.
“Oh, Jake. Why did you do that?”
He was watching her, tearing at the squirrel, one eye on her at all times to make sure she couldn’t take away his prize. Brenda didn’t know what she was going to do. She couldn’t leave the dead squirrel in the park, nor could she pick it up. At least not until he was finished with it.
“You’re not hungry,” she told him. “You didn’t kill it so you could eat it.”
He growled as he gnawed on it. Brenda wasn’t sure whether he was actually eating, or just chewing on it for the fun of it. She eventually realized she had to go back to the stroller. Erin had finished her crackers and was squalling for attention. Brenda walked back to the abandoned stroller and talked to Erin, waiting for Jake to abandon his prize so she could clean up after him. She was no longer interested in continuing the run. She just wanted to get home and forget about this part of her day.
Darren noticed Brenda was unusually quiet and a bit short with the kids. She was usually pretty relaxed after they got home from preschool, and they had a nice evening having dinner and playing a bit before they went off to bed. But it seemed like she had a black cloud over her.
“Do you want me to put the kids down?” Darren asked as Brenda rinsed the dishes, squawking about them getting underfoot.
Brenda looked at him, her face tense and tired. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I can do it…”
“No, let me. You look like you could use a break.”
Brenda nodded. “I really could. Thanks.”
He called the kids to follow him and got them started on their bedtime routine. Daddy putting them to bed was novel, so they didn’t dawdle or backtalk. They got ready and did the things he asked them to and acted like they were having a good time doing it.
Brenda sighed a long, slow hiss of air. She stared down at the dirty dishes; her shoulders slumped in fatigue. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She couldn’t get the picture of Jake attacking the squirrel out of her mind. How lame was that? It was a good thing she wasn’t a country girl. Imagine getting sick over the killing of a rodent. Anybody else would have just left it there, or tossed it in the garbage without another thought. They wouldn’t have gagged or shed tears over it. One less vermin in the city. Who would cry over that?
It took a great effort to finish the dishes and start the machine running. Brenda plopped down on the couch in front of the TV, not even bothering to grab her basket of laundry to sort and fold. She just couldn’t manage it. Her brain was too full of other things. Darren was out a little while later and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her, looking at her face.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You seem like you have something on your mind.”
“No,” Brenda said. Though of course there was. And of course, she wanted him to pursue it more strenuously. He studied her.
; “Are you sure? You seem upset.”
“I just had a hard day; that’s all.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Brenda shook her head. “Just stupid stuff. You know how sometimes things just don’t fall into place like you want them to. That kind of day.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He picked up the remote and flipped through channels to see what was on. Brenda watched him, waiting for him to ask her more about it.
“Do you think getting Jake was a mistake?” she asked finally.
Darren looked at her, surprised. “A mistake? I thought you love that dog.”
“I do. I just wonder… I mean, a dog is a lot of extra work, and what with the kids around and being so young…”
“They told you that you could take him back if it didn’t work out,” Darren ventured.
“I know. I don’t want to give him back. I just wonder… maybe it wasn’t the right time.”
“If he’s too much work…”
“No. I just think I might have jumped the gun a bit.”
“Okay,” he drew the word out as if doubting what she said.
Brenda turned her face away from him to watch the TV. He followed her example and turned back to the show he had landed on. He stared at the screen and didn’t look back at Brenda to see the tear running down her cheek.
How stupid. She berated herself. What was she crying over? Over a squirrel? Over the fact the dog had the instinct to hunt rodents? She wasn’t even crying over the fact Darren didn’t dig deep enough to tease out what the trouble really was. It was just all overwhelming. Maybe she was still feeling a bit of postpartum blues. It should be gone by now, and running with the dog should help, but there was no reason she couldn’t still be feeling a bit postpartum. A bit hormonal. Her ridiculous tears could be excused.
Brenda put her head on Darren’s shoulder. He put his arm around her to hold her close, kissing the top of her head.
“Just have a rest,” Darren murmured. “It will all look better in the morning.”
Loose the Dogs Page 4