Paws before dying by Conant Susan

Author:Conant, Susan [Conant, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“THIS doesn’t say anything about washing the dog,” insisted Leah, waving a copy of the AKC Obedience Regulations. “All it says is that they can’t be blind or deaf or ‘changed by artificial means,’ whatever that is. For all you know, soap is an artificial means.”

All I knew was more than she did. “It means surgery and things like that. Bleaches. Dyes. It doesn’t mean not to wash the dog.” The rule doesn’t ban training with shock collars, either, but it ought to. If an electric shock isn’t an artificial means, I don’t know what is. “Believe me, no judge wants to examine a dirty dog. At a minimum, you’ve got to brush her.”

Rowdy was standing on the grooming table in the driveway. In preparation for a match the next day, I was religiously stroking his coat with a slicker brush. I’d started grooming him as soon as I returned from Jack’s. Leah was sitting on the back steps with Kimi sprawled at her feet. Thick clumps of white undercoat grew like tumors from Kimi’s flanks.

“But it’s boring! Why don’t we just wait until they’re both done shedding and then clean it all up at once?”

“Because we live here, too, for one thing, and for another, I don’t want to be seen with her looking like that.”

“No one will care! And it’s outdoors.”

I gave in. “Okay. The agreement is that you’re responsible for her. But don’t blame me if the judge gives you a lecture about it, and he might.”

“He probably won’t even notice. I’m taking her to the Square, okay?”

“Fine. Good idea.” One of the reasons I love Cambridge is that when you’re training a dog, you want to work him in places that look, sound, and smell as much as possible like a dog show in Harvard Square, the human Westminster.

“And do you think I could use the car tonight? There’s a party at Seth’s.”

Kevin Dennehy appeared on the sidewalk, overheard, and demanded: “Do his parents know about it?”

“Hi, Kevin,” Leah answered, ignoring the question.

“Do they?”

“Kevin, relax,” I said. “It’s Newton. Would you let me worry: about his parents?”

“I would if you would,” he said.

“Yes, his parents know about it,” Leah said. “They’ll be; there. See you later.”

She and Kimi trotted away, and Kevin rushed off to meet some guys at the Y for a few hours of what Rita—but definitely not Kevin—calls male bonding. Leah and Kimi returned at five and left for Newton at seven, just as Steve and I took off for dinner with some friends of his in Watertown who have three rescue greyhounds. We tried to leave at eleven because Steve had to get back to check on a recuperating komondor, but it was hard to get away. When we did, Steve was worried about his patient. Because Appleton is a one-way street—you can’t turn onto it from Concord Ave.—he dropped me on Concord opposite the front of my house instead of detouring around to reach my driveway and my back door, the one I always use.

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