Blame It On The Dog. Amy Frazier
control of your dog before a solution is imposed upon you. One you might not like.”
Margo had touched a nerve. She knew just how much Selena hated being backed into a corner. Being told what to do and how to do it.
“I may have a solution,” Robert said. “I have a friend with an older brother who’s a dog trainer. Or psychologist, I’m not sure which. But he has an impressive list of clients. I could get his number for you.”
“A dog shrink?” Selena was skeptical. “Sounds a little too California even for me. Is he on the level?”
“Absolutely. I’ve met him. He’s as nononsense as they come. Besides his private consultations, he rescues and rehabilitates stray and feral dogs.”
“He doesn’t sound flaky,” Margo insisted. “He sounds compassionate.”
Robert rose to wait on a customer. “I’ll get his number for you before you leave.”
Selena remained unconvinced. “I really think Axel will grow out of it,” she said to Margo. “Don’t they say that from eight months to three years dogs are adolescents? So he’s really Drew’s age. The two of them are growing so fast they can’t control their own bodies. And I don’t expect Drew will be on an emotional roller coaster forever. He’ll mature and settle down. So will Axel. Nature has a way of sorting these things out.”
“If you say so.”
“You’re giving me that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says I’m being stubborn.”
“You said it, I didn’t.”
Selena sighed. “I’ll call this dog shrink. But if he shows the first sign of training the joy out of Axel, he’s gone. I may not want my sofa in shreds, but if I’d wanted a robot, I would have bought one of those electronic pets.”
Robert came back with a name and phone number on a slip of paper. He gave the paper to Selena and a rather soulful kiss to Margo before returning to the counter.
Margo’s expression turned dreamy. “What a lovely man.”
“The dog shrink?”
“No, silly. Robert. And he has really nice friends. Just say the word—”
“No, thank you! Not everyone is cut out to be part of a couple. Two males in my life are enough, even if one’s a dog.”
Margo laughed. “Selena, my friend, some day love is going to sneak up on you and catch you so unaware. I, for one, would pay to see that show.”
“How about you pay to see a more likely show? When Axel makes short work of this—” Selena glanced at the slip of paper “—Jack Quinn.”
HE WAS STRUCK not so much by the sullen adolescent who opened the door, but by the overwhelming clutter and confusion of the apartment behind the kid. Even that impression took a backseat to the powerful baying of an unseen dog miserable at being shut away somewhere. The distinct smell of acetylene hung in the air, giving the whole situation a decidedly film noir feel.
“I’m Jack Quinn,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m here to talk about Axel.”
The boy ignored the offered hand. “Mom! He’s here!”
Jack looked toward the far end of the large loft where a figure turned, removed a welding helmet and put down a torch. A woman. As she approached, she unzipped a paint-spattered coverall. A riot of short dark curls framed a face made exotic by large brown eyes and full lips. As she walked, she shrugged out of the coverall, an act that looked for all the world like a butterfly emerging from her cocoon. He tried not to dwell on the sinuous movement of her arms and legs as she freed herself from the heavy outer garment. Underneath the drab coverall, she was dressed in a pink tank top and orange shorts, and although it was winter dreary and cold outside, a light sheen of perspiration covered her body, pulling her clothing to her curves. She kicked off red cowboy boots to reveal bare feet and hot pink painted toenails. Every movement was a kaleidoscope of sensuality.
He caught himself. How long had it been since he’d focused on a woman’s looks? A long time.
“I’m Selena Milano.” Seemingly unfazed by either the surrounding mess or noise, she stood before him in the doorway, her hand outstretched. “And this is my son, Drew. You can hear Axel. We put him in the bathroom until you tell us how this procedure works.”
He took her hand and noted it wasn’t delicate as he might expect from her appearance. It was substantial, her shake assertive, bringing him back to professional mode. The normal curiosity he always felt at the beginning of a case returned. Having worked with many troublesome dogs, he knew most of the problems arose not with the dogs but with the owners. His job with the dogs always proved easy. His role where the humans were concerned ended up as part detective, part diplomat, part counselor.
“Do you want to meet Axel now?” Selena asked, raising her voice to be heard over the dog’s protests, but not indicating in any way Jack should enter the apartment.
“In a minute. First, I’d like to hear how you two see the problem.”
To one side of the door, Drew remained a silent sentry, his eyes averted.
“I’m not sure it’s a problem really,” Selena said, unmoving. “He’s just a big baby.”
Baby or not, Jack bet the neighboring business owners and apartment dwellers considered the incessant howling a real issue. Especially now on a Tuesday evening, after a long day’s work. “How old is he?”
“We’re not exactly sure. He was a stray. The vet’s best guess is about a year now, give or take a few weeks.”
“Old enough to know better.”
Selena bristled. “He had a very hard start to his life. He was a Dumpster dog. Because of that, we may have cut him some slack. But let me assure you, he’s well loved now. A member of the family.”
“He’s a dog.”
“Duh.” Drew spoke for the first time.
“I’m not being sarcastic,” Jack replied, beginning to feel uncomfortable standing just outside the loft. It was obvious these two had called him under pressure. There was nothing voluntary about this interview. He had to be careful how he handled their hostility if the dog was to get help. “Dogs are different than humans. They’re pack animals and happiest when they have a strong leader. The best dog is a calm, submissive dog.”
“Two of my least favorite words are dominance and submission,” Selena snapped. “If these are your training techniques, I think you’d better leave.”
“I’m not a dog trainer, I’m a dog behaviorist. If you give me a chance to explain the real nature of dogs and their needs, I think you’ll see how we can address Axel’s behavior. But if you want me to leave, I will.”
She held his gaze for a long minute. “Since I’ve maxed out my credit card in advance for this visit, let’s hear what you have to say. Come on in and sit down.” She indicated a sofa, partially covered with a brightly colored throw and a huge pile of laundry.
When he sat, the corner of the throw flipped back, exposing a badly chewed cushion. Selena perched on a chair opposite as if the shambles of the room was a palace and she its queen. Drew slouched against the wall by the door, glowering at the adults. Axel’s barking had to a piteous moan.
“Is Axel neutered?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” Selena replied as if this was an impertinent question from a rather dim courtier.
“Good.” He needed to find some positive starting point. “You’ve already scored points as responsible pet owners.”
From his lookout by the door, Drew rolled his eyes.
“What are the things