A list of things required before a puppy can start obedience training:
- A visit to the vet for shots.
- A new dog registration form.
- A terms of agreement form.
- A dog behavior form.
- A recent photo.
- A pre-training mandatory orientation session.
- A bait bag and a special Easy Leader collar.
On Monday morning, Ms. Anne arrived early, accompanied by her miniature sheltie, Gracie, and gave Miss Josie the list of items we would need for the training sessions at Misty Mountain Dog Kennel and Spa. Miss Josie frowned as she read over it.
“What the heck is a bait bag? It sounds like something you’d take fishing.”
“A bait bag is a pouch you wear around your waist so you can dole out treats as you train him. Labs are food motivated.”
Gracie was not food motivated. Gracie did not seem motivated by much of anything.
“How long do we have to stay in this dreary place?” asked Gracie. “I’m bored. And a weird pug is staring at me through the window.”
I glanced up. “His name is Jackson. He’s harmless.”
Jackson winked at Gracie and licked the window provocatively. He turned around and wiggled his little pug bottom at her. Gracie shuddered. “He’s disgusting.”
I couldn’t argue with her. “Jackson is an acquired taste.”
Gracie was a lady, and I treated her accordingly, giving her the best spot to sit and letting her have the first treat. She seemed to appreciate it. I even allowed her to curl up on my new bed.
“It’s nice to meet a pup who knows his manners,” said Gracie. “You should see the riff-raff I encounter at Misty Mountain.”
“Miss Josie is signing me up today. Is it bad?”
She yawned, patting her mouth delicately with one tiny paw. “Let me say; you have to be careful whose butt you sniff there. You could bring home something nasty if you aren’t careful.”
I pondered this as Gracie snoozed. I had no idea what she might be talking about, and both Ms. Anne and Miss Josie seemed unaware of the potential dangers lurking at Misty Mountain. With regard to my upcoming obedience classes, their concern centered on something entirely different.
“Make sure you ask for the younger trainer,” said Ms. Anne. “He’s gorgeous. I call him Sexy Trainer Dude.”
Miss Josie snorted. “You do realize that’s STD for short, right?”
“No, I did not,” said Ms. Anne with a laugh. “But, trust me, this guy is hot. He’s all muscular, and stern, and oh, so strict. If he told me to sit or lie down, I’d listen.” She fanned herself.
Miss Josie groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding. You want me to go to dog obedience training to meet men?”
“The trainer could be what you need right now. A distraction. Anything to help you get over Cedric the loser.”
Miss Josie made a sour face. “You said his name. Again.”
Ms. Anne held up her hands in defeat. “Sorry. I know he hurt you, but he is so not worth it.”
“I realize you’re right, but I need to go through a proper mourning period first.”
“And how long does this mourning period last, exactly? It’s been…what? Six months? You broke up with him not long after you inherited the shop. And you were not at fault. He was the one who conveniently forgot he already had a wife, the jerk.”
Miss Josie didn’t say anything, but she looked away quickly as if to hide the hurt in her eyes. I saw it and put my head against her leg to comfort her. She smiled down at me, patting me on the head. “Thanks, buddy.”
She called me “buddy.” Definitely the best thing ever. I wagged my tail happily. Nothing would bring me down now.
“I managed to snag an appointment for Capone at the vet,” said Ms. Anne, checking her watch. “It’s in half an hour. If he gets his shots today, you can go to the orientation for dog training on Wednesday. They only have the orientation once a month, so you lucked out. And I signed you up for Puppy Preschool tomorrow. You can attend as a warm-up of sorts.”
It was the best of times, and now the worst of times. Shots? Training? Orientation? Puppy Preschool? A gentleman had no time for such things.
Apparently, neither did Miss Josie. “I can’t, Anne. I have a business to run.”
“Gracie and I will take care of the shop. You need to get him trained. You have a narrow window of opportunity here. The more time you spend on him now, the less you’ll have to do in the future.” She handed Miss Josie my leash and pushed us out the door. “And you’ll like the vet. He’s cute. I call him Doc McHottie. He’s a dreamboat.”
Miss Josie narrowed her eyes at Ms. Anne as I tugged on the leash. “First Sexy Trainer Dude, then Doc McHottie. Are you using Capone as a way to fix me up with strange men?”
Ms. Anne shrugged. “Yes, and also to force you out of this bookstore once in a while. Now go. Doc McHottie is waiting.”
As we walked the short distance to the vet, Miss Josie muttered to herself under her breath, but her demeanor changed as soon as she met Doc McHottie. Slim and tall, he had dark hair, green eyes, and he carried the faint aroma of dog treats on his clothing, probably from the residual crumbs in his pockets. He might have been the perfect man.
He shook her hand. “So, this is the new puppy,” he said, leaning down to pet me. “He’s a real beauty. I’m not supposed to be partial, but I’m a lab guy myself. I have one like this at home. His name is Wrigley. We should get them together to play sometime.”
Wait a second. We’d been at the vet all of two minutes, and we’d already been set up on some human/canine double date? Strange, but intriguing. I wanted to hear more about Wrigley, but Miss Josie seemed more interested in Doc McHottie.
“That would be nice.” She flushed. Miss Josie was definitely out of practice with this whole flirting thing. She sat up a little straighter and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “What made you decide to become a vet?” she asked as he examined me. He had strong, capable hands, but a gentle touch and his eyes were kind. In all honesty, Miss Josie could do a lot worse. If they dated, he might even give her a discount on my veterinary care.
“I grew up on a ranch out west, surrounded by animals. I learned how to ride a horse before I could walk.”
“So, you’re a cowboy?” she asked, her voice sounding oddly husky. Either she was coming down with a cold, or my bookworm of an owner had a thing for cowboys.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Miss Josie let out a tiny gasp. A cowboy and a gentleman. What more could she want? The only thing better would be if Colonel Brandon and Captain Wentworth walked through the door together and took turns making passionate love to her. Who could turn down Brandon and Wentworth?
“I know nothing about dogs,” Miss Josie admitted. “I’m learning as I go. I found some books on basic care and training, but do you have any recommendations?”
“Sure,” he said. He went to a cupboard and pulled out a few paperback books on obedience training and how to care for a puppy—basic stuff, but precisely what Miss Josie needed. “And I meant what I said about getting together for a playdate with Wrigley. Dogs need to be socialized, the sooner, the better. Wrigley is a calm boy. He might be a good influence.”
They watched as I inspected each nook and cranny in the examination room, tail wagging, and my body so full of wiggles I thought I might burst. Miss Josie looked concerned.
“Is it normal for him to be this energetic?” she asked as I ran into the door and fell over. In my defense, it was a reflective door, shiny and metallic. I thought I saw another dog.
“Capone is definitely on the active side.”
He scooped me up in his sinewy arms and lifted me onto the exam table. Shiny and metallic, like the door, it gave me the heebie-jeebies. My feet kept slipping, and I felt miles above the ground.
As I experienced a wave of vertigo, I crouched down and clung to the table for dear life. Then Doc McHottie did the unthinkable. Without any warning at all, he stuck a thermometer in my…well…it wasn’t my mouth. Yowza. What a shock. But he pretended there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about it. Like people go around on a daily basis shoving things in the nether regions of innocent bystanders. He gave me a little scratch under my chin, not an easy thing to do while muscling a thirty-pound puppy to hold still on a shiny metal table and keeping a rectal thermometer in place.
“Good boy. We’re almost done.” He shot Miss Josie a glance. She averted her eyes as he took my temperature. I appreciated it more than she’d ever know. “Let’s get the dogs together soon. Maybe we could even turn it into a picnic or something.”
Getting asked out on a date with a man and his dog was probably a first for Miss Josie, as was getting asked out by someone taking a temperature reading from a dog’s anus, but she handled it smashingly. Doc McHottie was a professional. He knew what he was doing. And this was the moment of truth. Would Miss Josie put herself out there and start dating again, or would she go back to the bookstore alone, shut the door, and watch reruns of Downton Abbey?
“Sure. It sounds like fun.”
“Super.” He smiled and removed the thermometer from my bum. “His temperature is normal, and he looks great. My assistant will be in to give him his shots. By the way, his anal glands need to be expressed. We can do it for you here unless you’d rather do it at home.”
I’d never seen a human’s eyes grow as wide as Miss Josie’s. “Anal glands?”
Doc McHottie gave her a detailed explanation about the glands located near what we can politely refer to as the exit door for the intestinal tract. Aka, the place where Doc McHottie shoved his chilly thermometer. Although I didn’t realize I had anal glands either, it could explain the odd sensation pulsating from my backside ever since the rose-colored ribbon debacle. I wasn’t a doctor, but even I knew a throbbing itch and funny aroma coming from the rear area was never a good sign.
“You see,” he said, pulling up a large photo of engorged anal glands from a file on his computer. “Normally fluid is expressed with each bowel moment. In the case of Capone here, they’re backed up. What we’ll do is milk the glands to clear them out.”
“You milk them?” asked Miss Josie, her face pale. I honestly thought she might yak. She did not, but for a minute or two, it was close. “Take care of it, please. Do it right now.”
“Okay.” He flashed her his megawatt smile. “We’ll be back in a minute.”
I won’t go into detail to describe what happened when Doc McHottie took me into the back room for my anal gland expression, but I will admit to feeling relief and intense gratitude after we finished. Doc McHottie knew his stuff.
He gave me my shots and brought me back to Miss Josie. “How about getting the dogs together on Saturday for a picnic in the park?”
I was only a puppy, but even I understood Doc McHottie wanted a human playdate with Miss Josie as much as he wanted a canine playdate for me and Wrigley, but I don’t think Miss Josie minded.
“Okay,” she said. “What can I bring?”
“Nothing,” said Doc McHottie. “I love to cook. Do you mind if it’s vegetarian?”
“No,” said Miss Josie, smiling. “I’m a vegetarian, too.”
“Awesome.” He beamed at her. “I’m looking forward to it.”
As we walked back to the shop, I noticed a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. Miss Josie looked happy. And I wanted nothing more than to make sure she stayed that way.