grades on this one.”
“Hear that? Intrepid eater of flash drives, wood chips and kosher pickles.”
He grinned at Fiona, eye to eye. She saw fascinating flecks of bronze scattered on the tawny gold.
As the look held, one beat, then two, Simon gave a considering Hmmm.
“Forget it.” She got to her feet. “Let’s see his sit and stay. My class should be back any minute.”
“You’re still bent about the cabinet.”
“What cabinet?” she asked with the sweetest of smiles.
“Uh-huh. Okay, sit and stay. Jaws, you’re about to lose your head-of-the-class status.”
“You know, a little optimism and confidence translate, to dogs and to people. Or maybe you just like anticipating failure.”
“I consider it realism.” When he ordered the pup to sit, Jaws plopped his butt down cooperatively. “He’s got that one, mostly, but now it gets tricky. Stay.” He held up a hand. “Stay,” he repeated and began to back up.
The dog thumped his tail but stayed seated.
“He’s doing well.”
“Showing off for teacher. At home, odds are he’d be chasing his tail by now, or trying to chew on my boots while I’m wearing them.” He called the dog, rewarded.
“Do it again. Increase the distance.”
Simon took Jaws on the second round, stretching the space between them on the “Stay.” Then, at Fiona’s instructions, a third time until dog and man were a good twenty-five feet apart.
“Don’t frown at the dog when he’s doing what he’s told.”
“I’m not frowning.”
“Let’s call it your default expression. You’re confusing him. Call him in.”
Jaws responded and took the last couple of feet on his belly before rolling over to expose it.
“You did good, you did fine. Show-off,” Simon muttered as he bent down to rub.
“He switched to submissive mode because he wasn’t sure what you were after. You asked him for something, he gave it, and you stand there scowling at him. He gets an A.” Fiona knelt down to stroke Jaws into delirium. “You get a C minus.”
“Hey.”
“My class is coming back. Hold him. Give him the stay command and keep him still for a few seconds. Then you can give him the release, let him go greet.”
“How?”
“Sit and stay—holding him as he’s going to want to run and see who’s coming.” As she spoke she checked her watch for the log. “Then give him the go—use simple phrasing, something natural to you. Say hi, go ahead, greet. Whatever. Then let him loose.”
She rose, walked away to meet the first of her returning students.
“You wanted me to look bad, didn’t you? You think I’m not on to you?” Simon held the puppy in place while rubbing his ears. “Not as dumb as you look, are you? Just wanted to impress the pretty girl. Okay . . . check it out,” he said, and let Jaws race over to sniff and dance around the returning students.
By the time he walked over, Fiona was listening to the handlers describe how their dogs had performed, noting down the area covered, the number of alerts.
Simon pulled the leash out of his pocket.
“Why don’t you let him hang out, play with the others awhile,” Fiona suggested. She glanced up from her log. “You want him to get used to being around people, other dogs, ones he hasn’t met before. A little socialization wouldn’t hurt you either. Have another brownie. Maybe you can end the day on a higher grade.”
“I’ll take the brownie, but—” He broke off as Sylvia limped out of the woods, leaning on a makeshift crutch, with a woman supporting her on one side and a man on the other while a pair of dogs pranced ahead.
“She’s all right.” Fiona laid a hand on his arm to stop him from crossing over to help. “Make-believe, remember? The exercise involved a lost woman with a minor injury. She plays it up.”
The class broke into applause. Sylvia took an exaggerated bow, then gestured grandly to the woman and dog beside her.
“That’s Tracie and her Lolo. They found Syl in just under
“Hear that? Intrepid eater of flash drives, wood chips and kosher pickles.”
He grinned at Fiona, eye to eye. She saw fascinating flecks of bronze scattered on the tawny gold.
As the look held, one beat, then two, Simon gave a considering Hmmm.
“Forget it.” She got to her feet. “Let’s see his sit and stay. My class should be back any minute.”
“You’re still bent about the cabinet.”
“What cabinet?” she asked with the sweetest of smiles.
“Uh-huh. Okay, sit and stay. Jaws, you’re about to lose your head-of-the-class status.”
“You know, a little optimism and confidence translate, to dogs and to people. Or maybe you just like anticipating failure.”
“I consider it realism.” When he ordered the pup to sit, Jaws plopped his butt down cooperatively. “He’s got that one, mostly, but now it gets tricky. Stay.” He held up a hand. “Stay,” he repeated and began to back up.
The dog thumped his tail but stayed seated.
“He’s doing well.”
“Showing off for teacher. At home, odds are he’d be chasing his tail by now, or trying to chew on my boots while I’m wearing them.” He called the dog, rewarded.
“Do it again. Increase the distance.”
Simon took Jaws on the second round, stretching the space between them on the “Stay.” Then, at Fiona’s instructions, a third time until dog and man were a good twenty-five feet apart.
“Don’t frown at the dog when he’s doing what he’s told.”
“I’m not frowning.”
“Let’s call it your default expression. You’re confusing him. Call him in.”
Jaws responded and took the last couple of feet on his belly before rolling over to expose it.
“You did good, you did fine. Show-off,” Simon muttered as he bent down to rub.
“He switched to submissive mode because he wasn’t sure what you were after. You asked him for something, he gave it, and you stand there scowling at him. He gets an A.” Fiona knelt down to stroke Jaws into delirium. “You get a C minus.”
“Hey.”
“My class is coming back. Hold him. Give him the stay command and keep him still for a few seconds. Then you can give him the release, let him go greet.”
“How?”
“Sit and stay—holding him as he’s going to want to run and see who’s coming.” As she spoke she checked her watch for the log. “Then give him the go—use simple phrasing, something natural to you. Say hi, go ahead, greet. Whatever. Then let him loose.”
She rose, walked away to meet the first of her returning students.
“You wanted me to look bad, didn’t you? You think I’m not on to you?” Simon held the puppy in place while rubbing his ears. “Not as dumb as you look, are you? Just wanted to impress the pretty girl. Okay . . . check it out,” he said, and let Jaws race over to sniff and dance around the returning students.
By the time he walked over, Fiona was listening to the handlers describe how their dogs had performed, noting down the area covered, the number of alerts.
Simon pulled the leash out of his pocket.
“Why don’t you let him hang out, play with the others awhile,” Fiona suggested. She glanced up from her log. “You want him to get used to being around people, other dogs, ones he hasn’t met before. A little socialization wouldn’t hurt you either. Have another brownie. Maybe you can end the day on a higher grade.”
“I’ll take the brownie, but—” He broke off as Sylvia limped out of the woods, leaning on a makeshift crutch, with a woman supporting her on one side and a man on the other while a pair of dogs pranced ahead.
“She’s all right.” Fiona laid a hand on his arm to stop him from crossing over to help. “Make-believe, remember? The exercise involved a lost woman with a minor injury. She plays it up.”
The class broke into applause. Sylvia took an exaggerated bow, then gestured grandly to the woman and dog beside her.
“That’s Tracie and her Lolo. They found Syl in just under
Similar Books
