Ways to rock an obedience class:
- Listen to the instructor.
- Listen to Miss Josie.
- Stand next to the worst dog in the room.
- Make the other dog owners green with envy.
- Try to come home without any infectious diseases.
Monday morning, we arrived at obedience training early. Miss Josie did not want to suffer the wrath of Sexy Trainer Dude if she came in late. He’d already chastised her once. She preferred not to repeat the experience.
“You’re going to behave,” she said, as we pulled into Misty Mountain. “You’ll listen to the trainer and me, and you won’t be so….” She looked at me, trying to come up with the right word. “Capone-ish.”
Oh, calamity. I was Capone-ish. I mean, I didn’t murder anyone, and I hadn’t transported illegal contraband, but I lacked the same thing Al Capone had.
Impulse control.
If I’d learned anything from watching the PBS special on Regency gentlemen or Pride and Prejudice, it was that being a gentleman required many things, but impulse control topped the list. If a gentleman couldn’t contain his baser instincts, he wouldn’t be a gentleman at all.
Note to self: Stop being so Capone-ish.
As we lined up for obedience class, my thoughts churned. How could I manage to control these urges? I decided this might be my chance to learn and prove to Miss Josie I could be taught. She had her doubts, although I didn’t blame her.
Before class, Sexy Trainer Dude gave Miss Josie a nod. “I see you made it on time, Miss St. Clair. I’m glad I won’t have to punish you today.”
“Me, too,” Miss Josie said with a snort. “Although there’s always next time…”
As her voice faded, I shook my head in embarrassment. Could she be more awkward? She’d attempted to sound witty, I guess, but instead, she came off as kinky.
Sexy Trainer Dude cleared his throat. “Well, let’s get started.”
We gathered in a large, open training room with easy to clean mats on the floor. I understood why those mats were necessary when the schnauzer next to me squatted and peed. The little dog’s owner looked mortified.
“We’ve only been here two minutes, for heaven’s sake,” she said, and quickly ran to grab paper towels and a bottle of spray cleaner. When another dog peed, Sexy Trainer Dude rolled his crystal blue eyes.
“First rule of puppy class. Your dogs should relieve themselves before they come inside. If they didn’t, please go outside and take care of it now.”
About half the class shuffled out guiltily. Miss Josie did not. She’d taken me out to pee twice already, which probably made her feel rather smug.
Luke the Lab had come with his owner, No Brows. They stood across the room from us. Luke gave me a friendly wag of his tail. No Brows scowled at me. She scowled at Miss Josie, too. She was a scowly kind of person.
Sexy Trainer Dude stood in the center of the circle, his expression bored and yet resigned. “Welcome to puppy training. By the time you finish this class, your dog will know how to sit, stay, lie down, and come when you call. We’ll also work on loose leash walking and how to behave around other dogs.”
Most of the puppies either vibrated with excitement or barked at each other. I sniffed the poodle next to me, remembering Jackson’s words about poodles being a good kind of crazy, but otherwise remained calm. The effort required was extraordinary. I wanted to bark and wiggle and prance, but I kept saying to myself, “Be Mr. Darcy. Be Mr. Darcy,” and somehow it worked.
Would Mr. Darcy pee on the floor? No. Would Mr. Darcy bark at other puppies? No. Would Mr. Darcy lick his cojones? Definitely not.
By channeling Mr. Darcy, I turned my first obedience class into a rousing success. And when Sexy Trainer Dude taught a new skill, he used me four times to demonstrate how it should be done.
I’d turned into an obedience training rock star. It was awesome.
“Capone is doing great,” said Sexy Trainer Dude as the other dog owners milled around, working on loose leash walking. “Hiking is a good way to release some of his energy. Do you like to hike?”
Miss Josie nodded. “Sure. Of course.”
I had to laugh at the outright lie. I’m sure Miss Josie enjoyed reading about hiking, but I doubted she’d ever spent any real time in an actual forest. Her idea of being outdoorsy meant sitting on the back patio as she sipped wine.
“Maybe we could hike together sometime. I could bring my dog, Hans. He’s a German shepherd. He’ll teach Capone the ropes.”
Dear Lord. Didn’t any of the males in this town have girlfriends? Or wives? They all seemed to be on the prowl, and they were all abnormally interested in Miss Josie.
Maybe she emitted a smell I hadn’t picked up on yet. Although I knew little about mating in general, and even less about mating in humans, I knew dogs sent out specific signals while in heat. Was Miss Josie in heat? It certainly seemed that way.
Miss Josie gave him a coquettish look. I’m sure part of his allure was the fact Sexy Trainer Dude could teach her how to control me, so she agreed to meet him for a hike in Brady’s Run Park.
As we resumed class, she and Sexy Trainer Dude kept sharing flirty smiles. I liked it when Miss Josie smiled. When he called me over to demonstrate the final skill for the class, I thought No Brows’ head might explode. Luke was an obedience class failure today, and No Brows had a bad case of dog envy.
Luke and I discussed it when we went to the dog park after class so all the puppies could play together. “She’s intense,” he said. “But she makes homemade dog biscuits. Cool, right?”
“Does she let you sleep in her bed?”
“Of course,” he said.
I shook my head. “You’re so lucky, dude.”
“I am,” he said. “By the way, I pretend not to understand this obedience stuff to mess with her. When I screw up in class, she lets me stay extra-long at the dog park, and forces Daddy to work with me at home. I love Daddy. He’s not a lunatic like Mumsy.”
“You call them ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mumsy’?”
He laughed. “I know. Weird, right? Hey, whatever makes them happy.”
Maybe Luke wasn’t as dumb as I thought. No Brows had turned into putty in his paws, and he took Machiavellian glee in tormenting her.
Brilliant, and with an evil streak. Who would have thought?
Note to self: Scary things often come in small packages.
No Brows approached and grabbed my little buddy by the collar. “Get away from him, Luke. There’s something wrong with his eye.”
“What do you mean?” asked Miss Josie.
No Brows pointed at me. “Your dog’s eye. Look at it. It’s goopy.”
Miss Josie frowned. “It is not.”
“Yes, it is,” said No Brows with a laugh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
It turned out No Brows was right. I ended up coming home with more than just happy memories of my time at the puppy park.
“What is wrong with your eye?” asked Miss Josie as she opened my crate the next morning.
I smiled up at her, as pleasant as could be, although it was a little hard to see her through the thick mucus covering my eye. I wiggled over to her and wiped my goopy eye on her robe. I couldn’t help it. It itched, and she provided a handy scratching post of sorts. She grimaced in disgust.
“This means I have to take you to the vet. Again.”
I perked up. Another trip to the vet? Cool. Maybe Miss Josie would forgive Doc McHottie for the picnic debacle and agree to go out with him again, although I wasn’t sure how it worked since she’d already decided to go out with Sexy Trainer Dude. Miss Josie’s dating life resembled a revolving door at this point. I’d only seen revolving doors in movies, but they seemed terrifying.
Miss Josie called the vet and managed to snag an appointment. Ms. Anne agreed to come to hang out in the shop until Mrs. Steele arrived so Miss Josie could take me. She didn’t bring Gracie, probably because she didn’t want her dog to get “The Crud,” and she waved away Miss Josie’s apology about the added expense of yet another vet visit.
“This is how things go with puppies,” she said, clucking her tongue sympathetically. “Think before you lick, Capone. That’s what I always say.”
Wait. Licking caused this? Curse my wandering tongue.
Miss Josie shot her a dirty look. “This is all your fault, you know,” she said, but Ms. Anne didn’t seem upset.
“You love Capone, admit it, and he’s been great for your social life. You haven’t had this many dates in, well, ever.”
“I don’t need a puppy to meet men,” she muttered, but then she frowned, as the wheels turned in her head. “Oh, gosh. Maybe I do.”
“Speaking of men, how’s your friend from next door?”
She seemed surprised by Ms. Anne’s question. “Nate? He’s not my friend. Do you know what he did to poor Mrs. Norris?”
“The hat lady?”
“He’s putting her out of business.”
She proceeded to tell Ms. Anne the whole sordid tale. Oddly, Ms. Anne didn’t seem as upset by it as Miss Josie. “So basically, she’s retiring?”
“Because he’s forcing her to do it,” said Miss Josie, still full of righteous indignation. “He’s throwing a sweet, old woman out on the street. It’s awful. And he had plans to put me out of business, too. He admitted as much himself.”
Ms. Anne frowned. “It doesn’t sound like that, Josie…”
A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. Mr. Nate stood on the doorstep with two coffees in his hands.
“Speak of the devil,” said Ms. Anne with a cheery smile as she opened the door. “Hello, Nate.”
Miss Josie turned away from him and began shelving books in the back of the room. Her shoulders were tense, and she didn’t so much as glance his way, but Mr. Nate couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.
“I think I’m still in the doghouse,” he said.
“Not in my book, Mr. Murray, especially if one of those coffees is for me.”
He took a cup out of the carrier and handed it to her. “Two creams and one sugar,” he said. “The way you like it. The other is for Josie.”
“What did you make for her this time?” she asked.
“Café Bombón,” he said. “A Spanish coffee. My usual tricks weren’t working on her, so I decided to pull something crazy out of the bag.”
“Crazy is probably a good idea,” said Ms. Anne, her voice soft. “She’s mad at you, you know, but you bring it out in her for some reason. I’ve never seen her get this mad at anyone else.”
I listened, intrigued. What was Ms. Anne trying to say exactly?
“Any idea why?” asked Mr. Nate.
She pursed her lips. “I have a theory, but I think you need to figure it out on your own.”
His gaze went back to Miss Josie. “On my own? That’s doubtful.”
“It’s worth the effort. Trust me.”
Were they speaking in code? I was so confused.
Mr. Nate pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to Ms. Anne. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Josie didn’t want to hear my side of the story,” he said. “But I thought maybe if I put it in writing…”
“You wrote her a letter?” asked Ms. Anne, her eyes twinkling as she put a hand over her heart.
He stuttered. “To explain what happened. Josie misunderstood. She’s quick to jump to conclusions, you know.”
“I do know,” said Ms. Anne with a wink. “And she’s pretty quick to forgive and forget as well. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“Thanks, Anne,” he said, his brown eyes filled with sincerity. “I mean it.”
“I’m not doing this for you, silly man, although I do like you, and your coffee. I’m doing it for Josie. I think you’re good for each other.”
He leaned closer. “I’ll bring you coffee all the time, if that’s what it takes.”
She grinned at him. “Deal.”