Three weeks later, Baxter and I had mostly recovered from our trauma. Pavlov seemed to have recovered, too. The very last thing I had ever wanted for her was to have to attack someone. I was still having bad dreams, however, despite having been safe in my own home and waking in Baxter’s arms. In time, though, those dreams would fade.
The Creede Repertory Theatre was now opening a new show at the Ruth Theater. Judging from several online reviews, Good Dog, Blue! was still going strong, gleaning rave reviews and an extension to what would be a twelve-week run, a two-week extension to their entire season. The mounds of publicity from the release of the director and the arrest of the theater manager had indeed helped the theater’s sales.
John had sent me two bouquets (red roses) and apologized via email at least a half-dozen times. I would undoubtedly have to testify at some point in the murder trial. I’d learned through John that Felicity had been temporarily promoted to theatre manager, and all the other actors had carried on their roles, with both Flint and Pippa making excellent Blues as the need arose.
Karen had called me just to chat. We had vowed to get together in Boulder, after she’d completed her work in Creede. She told me that Sally had permanently dumped John, and that Felicity had also made it clear that she would never get back into anything beyond a business relationship with him. Felicity had told Karen that she was truly looking forward to the play’s run ending, which would lead to John leaving town for “brighter spotlights.”
In his most-recent email, John wrote that he had finally realized he had been treating Flint like a commodity, but the events of late had awakened him to understand what a privilege it really is to earn the love of a good dog. He promised me that he would measure up and deserve Flint’s loyalty from here on out.
He also wrote that he was getting requests for productions of his play from five different western and southwestern states. He assured us that he would love to let bygones be bygones and to cut us into the action as a dog-training team. I want to atone for my terrible transgressions, he wrote.
We turned him down.