Brigit
Megan clipped Brigit’s lead onto her collar and directed the dog to put her nose to the ground. Brigit happily obeyed. Tracking was fun, like a game of hide-and-seek. Brigit never lost this game. She had the best nose in the biz. The best part about it was that Megan would give her a treat afterward, an edible paycheck.
Sniff-sniff. Sniff-sniff.
Brigit could smell where the ground had been disturbed, smell one of the same human scents that had been on the baby’s blanket. She continued on, following the scent across the parking lot of the fire station and out onto the sidewalk, where it mingled with the scents of discarded chewing gum and cigarette butts and car exhaust and a thousand other scents her sensitive nose could distinguish. She followed the smell to the curb, out into the street, and diagonally across it, picking it up again on the sidewalk on the other side.
She trotted along with Megan jogging by her side. Down the block they went, then down another. She could smell the same scent but slightly more faint, meaning the man who’d gone this way had backtracked over a trail he’d left not long before. Yep, her nose could create a virtual time line of activity, not only picking up scents but discerning how fresh they were.
Sniff-sniff. Sniff-sniff.
Finally, the scent petered out in a dark parking lot. Brigit snuffled around to make sure she couldn’t pick it up again. But no. The scent disappeared here.
She sat down and looked up at Megan to let her know the trail stopped here. Paycheck, please!
Megan reached into her pocket and removed a liver treat, tossing it to Brigit along with a “Good girl!”