Bold and Blue in Dog Town: (Dog Town 9)

by Sandy Rideout

  “Fireworks! Dogs hate fireworks. And Whiskey is noise phobic now.”

  “He won’t be by then. You’ve got six weeks to turn that dog around.”

  “That’s a full-time job, and then some. I don’t see how I can do it so quickly. I’ve been picking up extra shifts all year.”

  Cliff gave up spinning the pen and tapped it, instead. “You raise a good point. I think you’ve been working too hard and it’s affecting your judgement. So I’ve decided to reassign you for now. You need to put your full attention into retraining your dog.”

  The drumming pen got louder, or maybe it was her heart pounding in her ears. “Reassign me? To what?”

  “Well, you know Elsa’s retiring this week, and her position will be vacant.”

  “Elsa? She’s our receptionist. That’s not just a demotion but a punishment, sir.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re getting hung up on titles.” He couldn’t even hide the grin hiding under his mustache. “Elsa has a very important role. She’s the face of the CCD. She monitors the Tattletail hotline and handles all complaint calls. I’ve seen the poor lady in tears, sometimes.”

  She took a deep breath and decided to try another tactic. “I really appreciate that you want to give me time to focus on Whiskey. That’s so kind of you. But it sounds like manning the phones might be more stressful than my current role. Let’s keep things as they are, sir.”

  He slammed the pen to the desk with one beefy hand. “Butterfield, I’ll stop beating around the bush. It’s all been decided. You’ll be the poster gal for the Miracle Makeover Program. In the meantime, you’ll work reception. If all goes well on the Fourth of July you can keep your job.”

  She leaned forward, trying to meet his piggy eyes and failing, because they were darting around the room. “Just to be sure I understand… You’re saying if I don’t get my traumatized, noise-sensitive dog ready for fireworks on the fourth you’ll make an example of me in a documentary?”

  He shook his head. “You women get so emotional. See it as an opportunity to educate the public. Show people that they have the power to reform their dogs… and keep them.”

  Ah. So if she didn’t comply with this stupid plan, she’d lose Whiskey, too. They were counting on her to fail and be an example of why draconian policies around problem dogs were necessary.

  She stood up, leaned over the desk and slapped it with both hands.

  The impact opened her paper cut again and she added streaks of blood to his desk blotter.

  “You know what? This all sounds like fun, Cliff.” She turned and walked to the door. “Game on.”

  Chapter 9

  “Can you believe they’re actually calling this the Miracle Makeover Dog Training Program?” Kinney said, heading into town with Evie in the passenger seat.

  “I can believe any crap the City throws out these days. The more outrageous the better, it seems. If it didn’t affect my friends and me, I’d laugh my butt off.” She looked over at Kinney. “Are you sure you’re not going to get into trouble for bringing me along?”

  “Oh, probably. But I’ve already been demoted, set up for public humiliation and threatened with firing. Getting chastised for bringing a friend for moral support can’t cause much more damage.”

  “I guess you’re right about that.” She leaned back in her seat and smiled. “You’re taking this well, all things considered.”

  “I just remind myself that I’ve seen and experienced worse. When I was in social services, families were torn apart by domestic violence. It was heartbreaking, especially for the children. So I guess manning the Tattletail hotline and taking dog training isn’t so bad.” She turned to glance at Evie. “But with Madison Parker, Dog Town documentarian, on the job, I want my own camera crew.”

  Evie sniffed. “I’ll show that upstart a thing or two. Mark my words.”

  Slowing at City Hall, Kinney admired the German shepherd in Bellington Square. The statue used to remind her of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. Now it conjured up Whiskey, who was sitting in much the same pose in the back seat. It still stirred up a bit of fear, but now it was mixed with fondness. The real dog was a sweetheart, if you managed to forget that he was capable of turning on a dime.

  The email from City Hall had been fairly cryptic. The first meeting of the Miracle Makeover Dog Training Program was to be held at Pine Grove Alliance Church, one of the oldest churches in Dorset Hills and arguably the quaintest. As they turned and headed for the rolling hills, the white steeple was visible in the distance.

  “Do you think they picked a church for optics?” Kinney asked.

  “Of course. None of this happens by accident,” Evie said, polishing her camera lens. “Every week, people will get to see bad dogs being redeemed in the house of the lord.”

  “The lord in this case being Mayor Bradshaw.”

  “Exactly. If he’s smart, he’ll show up for a photo op at some point.”

  “Oh no! Do you think he’ll be here today?”

  Evie shook her head. “Too soon. There’s a chance one of the dogs will go for him. He’ll wait a few weeks till there’s progress. But not too long, in case there isn’t progress. At least, that’s what I’d tell him to do.” She looked up from her lens with a smile. “Thank god I’m on the right side of politics now.”

  Pulling into the church parking lot, Kinney took a deep breath and turned to Whiskey. “Don’t embarrass me, pal, okay? That’s all I’m asking. I’ll work my butt off to help you heal, but I could really do without more media coverage.”

  Evie laughed. “I, for one, loved seeing that photo of you in James’ arms in the Dorset Hills Expositor yesterday. It’s exactly how I imagined seeing you two. Minus the terror.”

  “I wasn’t terrified.”

  “James was. He didn’t know whether to drop you or go after Rocky and risk someone getting bitten. It’s not easy being gallant when you have an aggressive dog.”

  “Well, it was awful, all of it. I plan to avoid him for a very long time.”

  They got out of the car and Kinney released Whiskey, keeping a tight grip on his leash. Signs with arrows led them around the side of building.

  “You don’t even get to go in the front door,” Evie said, laughing. “Maybe after the Fourth of July you can pose on the steps. Once your dogs are reborn.”

  “Time to put a lid on your witticisms,” Kinney said. “I’ve got to look like I’m taking this seriously. I’m the poster child for the program and I’m quite sure the trainer will send a report to Cliff after every class.”

  “Got it. Taking it seriously. As of… now.” Evie pretended to zip her lips.

  Opening the door of the basement, Kinney entered a large recreation room. Half a dozen people with dogs of various shapes and sizes had already arrived. At the front of the room, someone was kneeling beside a big box of equipment.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Kinney said.

  Evie choked back a guffaw. “Well, only one person I know wears gloves with orange fingers in June.”

  “Did you know about this?” Kinney said, turning quickly.

  Shaking her head, Evie tried unsuccessfully to smother her laughter. “Cori kept this top secret. I can’t imagine how they enticed her to do it.”

  Cori stood up and offered a merry wave. Then she worked her way through the crowd and joined them. “Hey, there. I just came over to tell you we’re not friends today.”

  “We’re not friends most days,” Kinney said.

  “True. My friendship is always conditional. But today it’s not personal. I’ve been hired to run this program and I can’t give you preferential treatment.”

  “Why on earth would you accept this job?” Kinney asked. “Your life’s work is to embarrass the mayor. And now you’re on the payroll?”

  “I wouldn’t consider those goals to be in conflict,” Cori said, grinning. “I’m collecting my paycheck and donating it to worthy rescue causes. That won’t keep me up at night. But passing up an opp
ortunity to help troubled dogs and keep the City from banning them? That would keep me up at night.”

  “It’s a good point,” Evie said. “Plus you’re in a position to pick up more information that will help us with our bigger objective of ousting you-know-who.”

  “Exactly.” Cori’s dark eyes were never still, monitoring every dog and owner in the room. “We need someone on the inside, now that Kinney is out.”

  “I am not out. I’m temporarily sidelined because of this dog—the one you urged me to keep, remember?”

  Now Cori met her eyes. “I stand by my advice. This dog is going to change you so much you won’t want that stupid job anymore. Guaranteed.”

  “That’s putting a lot of weight on one dog’s shoulders.” Kinney rested her hand on Whiskey’s head, but after a polite second or two, he moved away. “See, he doesn’t even like me.”

  Cori rolled her eyes. “I’ll get right to work on dispelling your romantic ideas. You rescued this dog a few days ago. He still doesn’t know you from Adam, and quite frankly, you’ve done nothing to earn his respect yet. The first thing you need to do is drop your arrogance.”

  “Arrogance! You’ve got some nerve, Cori Hogan. You are the most arrogant—”

  Cori raised her middle finger to her lips. “Shut it, Kinney. Our special guest is here.”

  In the doorway stood a tall, elegant man with silvery hair and a wide smile showing unnaturally white teeth. He was wearing a slate-grey coat that was too warm for the day but made him look like a movie star of old. Cary Grant, perhaps, or Jimmy Stewart.

  Folding her middle fingers, Cori gave him a wave.

  Evie followed suit. “I expected him to show up at some point. But if he’s officially kicking off the Magical Makeover Program, it must be high profile.”

  “Miracle Makeover,” Cori corrected. “There’s no magic about it. Just hard work.”

  Mayor Bradshaw picked his way carefully through the crowd, trying to avoid either unruly dogs, or dog hair.

  “Evelyn, how lovely to see you,” he said. “You look very well.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m really excited to be here to see your new dog program in action. It’s a great step forward for the City.”

  His smile expanded to nearly eclipse the room. “I couldn’t agree more, Evelyn. I’m glad there are no hard feelings between us after what happened with Runaway Farm.”

  “Not at all, sir,” Evie said. “Hannah couldn’t be happier. The renovation is going well and it’s going to make a sweet little inn before too long.”

  Looking down, he noticed the camera she was trying to hide behind her back. “Evelyn, no. I forbid you to shoot this class for your silly show. I have a real documentarian now.” He looked across the room and snapped his fingers at Madison Parker, who was interviewing some of the participants on camera. “She’s a professional, you know. Fresh out of film school.”

  Cori waved her glove in front of the mayor’s face. “I’d prefer no cameras at all, Mr. Bradshaw. I don’t want to reveal all my trade secrets to other trainers. And from a theatrical standpoint, imagine how much more impact there will be when we can reveal these dogs fully transformed at the Fourth of July festival.”

  The mayor stared over her head, which wasn’t that hard as he was well over a foot taller. “The cameras stay, Miss Hudson. And please… call me ‘Mayor.’”

  It gave Kinney some comfort to see that he still despised Cori, even though he was using her to advance his agenda. Politics really did make strange bedfellows.

  Finally, his eyes turned to Kinney. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “We have, sir, at a number of events. But I don’t expect you to remember everyone. I’m Kinney Butterfield.”

  “Ah yes, the dog officer with the gentleman.” He gave a little smile. “That photo went viral, I hear.”

  Kinney’s face flushed as she pressed her lips together. She stared down at Whiskey, trying to regain her composure. When she looked up again, Madison’s camera was zooming in. She whispered to Evie, “This day could not get any worse.”

  Evie looked over her shoulder, and whispered back, “Challenging fate that way ends up biting you in the butt, I’m afraid.”

  Turning quickly, Kinney saw two more participants in the doorway: James Pemberton and Rocky.

  “Oh, no,” she said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Oh, yes,” the mayor said. “After that shameful display at his worksite, it made sense to sentence Mr. Pemberton and his dog to mandatory reform class.”

  Cori’s shout for attention prevented him from saying more. She’d moved to the front of the room. “We’re all here, so let’s get started, people. I can’t wait to see you transform your relationships with your dogs through my Miracle Makeover Program. Let’s get started with a fun little exercise so I can see how you handle your dogs. Form a circle facing forward, with dogs on the inside. Spectators, take your seats at the side of the room.”

  Kinney moved into the circle and positioned Whiskey to her left. Her heart was thundering as if this were a life-and-death situation. With the mayor, Cori, James, and Madison’s camera observing her performance, that was pretty much how it felt. This dog was unpredictable, and she was a dog cop—someone who was supposed to know how to deal with all challenges related to dogs. It felt like her whole identity was on the line.

  “Relax,” a voice said behind her.

  She glanced over her shoulder. James looked cool and collected, although his wide white smile was only half as bright as usual. “How can I relax? I’m going to make a fool out of myself.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” he said.

  Now she turned right around. “James, they could take our dogs away from us. And in my case, I could lose my job.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s left of it. I’ve already been demoted over adopting Whiskey.”

  His blue eyes widened. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “And I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I can’t believe the coverage that silly incident got.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “The way I look at it is that I needed to knuckle down on Rocky and now I’m locked in with a good trainer. I’ve been away so much over the past year that his behavior slipped. Getting ticketed and called out in the paper was a wake-up call.”

  Kinney just stared at him. How could he be so gracious about what had happened? She was seething whereas it rolled off him, like water off a duck’s back.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s kind of you to let me off the hook.”

  “Kinney, it might surprise you, but it’s not every day a pretty girl falls into my arms. I’ll forgive a lot for that.”

  A prickle of heat rushed through her, leaving her cheeks warm. James must have girls falling all over him all the time. He was handsome, rich and genuinely kind. It was too bad they were wrong for each other. He needed someone graceful and gregarious—a woman of the world. The opposite of her.

  “Kinney and James?” Cori called from the front of the room. Madison was shooting over her shoulder. “Time to stop flirting and pay attention. This is a big part of your problem: you need to focus on the dogs. It’s always important to focus on your dogs, but when there’s trouble with said dogs, you need to drop everything else and make that your top priority. Can you do that?”

  Kinney mumbled something under her breath and offered a low flip of her finger to Cori, who grinned instantly in response.

  James said, “Of course. I’m ready to put my all into Rocky.”

  “Okay, I’m going to play some music and you’re going to walk the dogs forward in a circle. When the music stops, you ask the dog to sit.”

  She hit a key on a boombox and “Another One Bites the Dust” rang out. Kinney shuffled forward with Whiskey, who kept turning to eye Rocky and James. Rocky pranced forward on his leash, flashing some teeth. Soon Whiskey was pulling backwards and Kinney had to hold the leash with both hands. Meanwhile Ro
cky was tripping James, making him hop awkwardly.

  Kinney caught a quick glimpse of the mayor perched on a child’s plastic chair, somehow still looking elegant. Evie was slouched in the corner, shooting from behind a mini chalkboard.

  The music stopped abruptly and Whiskey danced around like he didn’t know the “sit” command, which he totally did. He finally planted his butt, but in reverse, staring at Rocky.

  Cori moved through the crowd, took Kinney’s arm and moved her ahead in the circle. Now she was between a woman with a reluctant Scottie named Angus, and a tall teenaged girl with a small gold dog named Nugget.

  “Just tell him to watch you and then praise him,” Cori said. “He needs to pay attention to you at all times, not the other dogs.”

  The music started again, and without the distraction of Rocky, Whiskey behaved nicely.

  Cori did a number of other exercises, including meeting other dogs head on, and walking around obstacles. Whiskey did well through it all, unless Rocky moved too close, which the fluffy instigator kept trying to do. Finally, they formed a single line in front of their leader.

  “I’ve seen enough, thanks. As I suspected, everyone here has the same basic challenge: your dog does not see you as its leader. You’re just someone at the end of the leash who may or may not be trustworthy. Given that, you can hardly blame the dog for not listening. It doesn’t matter if your dog behaves perfectly at home, by the way. What really counts is how the dog behaves everywhere else. And that’s where the relationship comes in. If your dog trusts you, it will listen to you, whether you’re standing in the middle of a busy highway, in a park or at a shopping mall. So that’s what we are going to work on over the next six weeks: your relationship.”

  Kinney raised her hand. “But what if a dog has just come into your care? You can’t wave a magic wand and get him to trust you.”

  Cori shrugged. “Building a bond can be quicker than you think. The dog just needs to know you have its back. That doesn’t come from nursing it like a baby. It comes from making calm, wise decisions consistently. Basically, you need to be worthy in the dog’s eyes of paying attention.”