Blame It On The Dog. Amy Frazier

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СКАЧАТЬ think about this, too. Can you bring yourself to use the words submission and discipline without thinking of them as negatives?”

      How dare he challenge her? She nearly hung up the phone until she remembered the threat of Animal Control. For Drew and Axel—not for Mr. Take Charge on the other end of the line—she finally said, “Yes.” A qualified yes.

      “I’m assuming you want Drew to be present. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Come to my center at eleven, and I’ll fit you in.” He gave her the address in an industrial part of town. “Leave Axel at home.”

      The man was impossible. “Do you understand the emergency involves Axel? My neighbor isn’t threatening to send my son and me to the pound.”

      “I understand. But we’re not going to get anywhere with Axel until you understand a few basics. I want you to observe my pack of well-adjusted dogs.”

      His pack of dogs? What was this guy? Urban jungle boy? “And that’s going to help our problem?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

      “Absolutely. Trust me.”

      Oh, no. She might have agreed to follow his doggie-shrink routine for two more paidup sessions, but trust him? She’d learned the hard way to trust no one but herself.

      SELENA HATED missing Saturday mornings at Margo’s. That was when she was most likely to run into friends. It seemed ages since she’d caught up with all the others, but the issue with Axel wouldn’t go away. Maybe, if things went well at the dog center, Drew and she could stop in at the café later for scones.

      The address Quinn had given her appeared to be a vacant lot between two warehouses. A high, chain-link fence backed by green tarp fronted the property. Stretched on the fence to one side of a wide roll-gate was a professionally painted banner that read Canine Rescue and Rehabilitation with a Web site below. Selena stepped up to a call box hanging next to the gate and pressed the button.

      A voice—definitely not Quinn’s deep rumble—said, “May I help you?”

      “Selena and Drew Milano. We have an eleven o’clock appointment with Jack Quinn. I know we’re a bit early, but I couldn’t be sure how easy this place would be to find.”

      The gate swung open even as the disembodied voice replied, “No problem.”

      Selena and Drew stepped into an enclosed area beautifully designed like a Japanese garden. There was the sound of running water, but not a dog in sight. A young man stepped out of a small building to greet them. “Jack said if you got here early, I was to give you a tour. He’s working with a pretty intense case right now, but he’ll be free shortly. I’m Andy. One of the assistants.”

      “How many people work here?” Selena was under the impression Jack worked alone with his pack of feral dogs. Out of his jungleboy cave. In a loincloth.

      “Three full-timers, including Jack. Three more part-timers. And a half-dozen interns. When it comes to dog issues, we’re the go-to people.” Andy looked quite proud of the fact. “When you’re dealing with animals, it’s a twenty-four-seven, year-round operation. And when you see the size of our resident pack, you’ll see why we need a large crew.”

      “So where are the dogs?” Drew asked.

      “Through the next gate.” Andy indicated the chain-link fence on the far side of the garden. This fence was covered with tarp as well, so that what was on the other side remained a mystery.

      “This is an unusual entrance for a dog center,” Selena said, looking around at the contained yet peaceful landscape.

      “Jack designed it with a purpose,” Andy explained. “He believes dog owners must exhibit calm leadership. Even visitors to the center. The garden helps you relax and focus before you enter the dog compound.” He led them toward the far gate. “There’s one more holding area—for humans—but you can observe the pack from there.”

      “You keep talking about a pack. How many dogs are there?”

      Andy grinned as he slid the second gate open. “You’ll see.”

      Selena heard Drew gasp as they stepped into another smaller fenced-in area overlooking a compound the size of a football field neatly subdivided. In the very large section beyond the one in which they stood, dozens of dogs milled quietly about. Some lounged in the shade of awnings hung from the fenced perimeter. Others splashed in water-filled kiddy pools. Still others chased a ball in what looked like a canine game of pickup soccer. Selena was struck by the placid atmosphere even though the dogs were left to their own devices.

      “There’s no barking,” Drew said in a near whisper.

      “No,” Andy replied. “These are well-adjusted dogs. But they weren’t always like this.”

      As a group of dogs came up to the fence, curious to check out the visitors, Selena noted there wasn’t a hyper Axel amongst them. No whining, barking or jumping on the chain link. As well-behaved as they were, however, she saw they weren’t even city-pound-quality. Some were missing a leg, others an eye. Many of them bore ancient scars. “These guys aren’t ever going to be adopted, are they?” she asked.

      “It’s doubtful,” Andy replied. “But they have a home for the rest of their lives. Here. Jack’s seen to that. He’s even worked out a deal with the homeless in the area. If, for any reason, they can’t take care of their dogs, they can bring them here. No questions asked. Even if it’s just temporarily until the person thinks they can take care of the dog again.”

      Selena wasn’t sure she was ready for Quinn to turn out to be a nice guy.

      “Jack’s working at the far end in one of the isolation pens,” Andy said. “I’ll give you the tour as we make our way to him.”

      “Through there?” Selena squeaked, as Andy moved to open the gate to the freeroaming dog area. Suddenly wading through a mass of street dogs seemed a little daunting.

      “Sure,” Andy replied. “You do know how to meet dogs for the first time?”

      “There’s a right way?”

      “Absolutely.” Andy looked especially at Drew, who seemed mesmerized by the pack. “No eye contact. No talking. No touching. At least until they’ve sniffed you thoroughly. Keep your head high, your shoulders back. Act like you own the world.”

      “Mom’s good at that,” Drew quipped.

      “You’ll do fine,” Andy replied with a smile. “When we step through the gate, walk slowly toward the end of the compound, keeping your eyes on the top of that flagpole. I’ll tell you when you can stop and interact.”

      She remembered how she’d just scooped up Axel as a pup and brought him home. If dogs were really this complicated they should issue owners’ manuals. The thought gave her pause, but as Andy opened the gate, she took Drew’s hand—it was testament to the power of the pack that he let her—and stepped into Jack Quinn’s world.

      She hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to walk and not acknowledge the dogs she felt sniffing about her. Her first instinct, once she realized how truly well-behaved they were, was to greet them, pet them, get to know their individual personalities. But, having closed the gate, Andy walked alongside her СКАЧАТЬ