7. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Noah
I found three clients who wanted personal lessons at their homes. Needless to say, I was happy to oblige. I discovered three dogs desperately in need of a firm hand and, by the end of the first lesson, I’d convinced each of the owners I could whip everyone into shape.
Three happy people signed up for more lessons.
Stormy settled into our home nicely. Although she was my shadow during the day, as soon as Christian came home, she followed him around. During his two days off, she didn’t leave him for a moment.
He’d never seen such devotion before and, at first, found it overwhelming. Eventually, though, he settled into the role of being Stormy’s person .
I was fine with that. In fact, I was already casting a wide net for another dog to add. I didn’t want Stormy to be lonely, of course. Not because I desperately wanted a dog of my own .
The next week flew by and, soon enough, I found myself facing ten identical black lab puppies.
Bear, I recognized, of course.
Glynnis had a tight grip on him.
I’d struggle to identify Tibby, Pepsi, Smudge, Frankie, Roxy, Haggis, Bruiser, Penny, and Sleepy. Well, maybe not Sleepy. Initially they’d called her Bette—but with her penchant of dropping to sleep all the time, I understood why they’d changed the dog’s name. She certainly wasn’t a firecracker.
“The vet says she’s perfectly healthy.” Flora, Sleepy’s lovely owner, assured me.
“She’s just…not very energetic. We’ve had to lower her caloric intake a bit since we don’t want her to put on too much weight.
I mean, she’s happy to go out and play and everything…
she just tends to, when not actually walking, curl up and fall asleep. Weirdest thing.”
“Kind of like narcolepsy?” I’d never heard of this before.
“Well, narcolepsy is when they get super excited and they fall over fast asleep. Sleepy finds a spot to curl up before gently dozing off.” Flora shrugged. “Given the rambunctious nature of my twin six-year-old boys, I hoped to find a dog who would tire them out.” She eyed the other nine puppies.
All of whom were excitedly pawing at each other, nipping each other, trying to climb over each other, or—in the case of Penny—surveying the entire group like they were just a little out of their minds.
She’d always shown way more maturity than her high-spirited siblings. Or so her owner reported. Daphne, Penny’s owner, clearly had a keen sense of all things dog.
Pepsi and Smudge, named by an enthusiastic five-year-old and a sarcastic twelve-year-old—their father’s description, not mine—were all over each other with lots of nips, yips, and growls .
Had I been the breeder, unless these were the last two, I would not have put them together.
The sarcastic twelve-year-old, Brooke, and her overwhelmed father, Richard, were the two designated people responsible for the dogs. Richard was eager. Brooke?
I was going to have to win her over.
Frankie had a shock of white fur on her chest and the cutest yowl when something displeased her—which happened often. Mickie, her owner, confessed she might have three cats in the house and apparently Frankie now thought she was a cat, and wasn’t it great her silly dog could be around dogs again?
I had my doubts—Frankie really did have an impressive yowl that sort of did sound like a cat.
Tibby’s owner, Soren, was a handsome man with a shock of white hair and not a wrinkle to be found. So, either the hair didn’t match the biological age—which was entirely possible—or he had freakishly smooth and unlined skin.
I wasn’t certain which, but I was definitely curious.
I was also concerned about Bruiser. Clearly the dog had all the inherent gentleness one could expect of the perfect lab puppy.
His owner, a stick-thin and short man named Junior was clearly hoping the dog would compensate for…
something. He wanted a big, strong, bruising dog. He’d adopted a marshmallow.
Duncan’s Haggis was big, strong, and man, did that dog have an attitude.
I’d have to watch her carefully while also nurturing her spirit.
The man was self-effacing, adorable, and reminded me of Christian—slender with red hair.
While Christian’s eyes were this amazing shade of green, though, Duncan’s were crystalline blue.
Roxy was a spitfire, but her owner Janelle was in control. The woman used to train service dogs, but she’d retired from that work. She totally could’ve trained Roxy on her own, but she liked the idea of socializing the puppy.
I worried she might know more about training than I did, but she assured me up front that she wasn’t here to judge—just to get some of the zoomies out of her beloved pet.
“Okay.” I used my outdoor voice—which worked because we were, in fact, outside.
Most of our lessons would be out here. The family room at the back of the house could accommodate a fair number of people, but I’d want the dogs farther along in their training.
Accidents were inevitable, but I preferred to have as few of them as possible in—
Bruiser squatted and, within an inch of Glynnis’s foot, pissed.
“Oh dear.” She scooted out of the line of spray just as her Bear decided to nose his way up Bruiser’s butt and, yep…
“Let me get a towel.” Realistically, Bear needed his entire snout washed, but I wasn’t going to worry about that.
Glynnis merely shrugged and gave me the what can you do look.
I appreciated that. “Okay, everyone pay attention to me.”
Well, Penny did.
“Puppy class is as much about socializing and teaching good manners as it is about actual commands. By the end of the class, though, you should be able to loose-leash walk your dog, and they should be able to sit, come, and wait.” I surveyed the mass of wriggling bodies. “Any questions?”
“Will you have potty-training hints?” Mickie eyed Frankie. “Had to be my favorite Manolos.”
I winced. I didn’t even want to think about what that cost her.
“I do have potty-training hints. Let’s save them for the end.
Now, I want to introduce Christian and his dog Stormy.
She’s about nine-months-old and, as you can see, fairly well trained.
I’m going to show you a few things she can do so you’ll know what’s possible.
” I eyed Janelle, who smiled back. As a former trainer, she certainly knew what any given dog could accomplish.
Christian took Stormy through a series of basic commands and, to my relief, she nailed every single one.
For today, I started the class on working through sit . Which, as always, proved hilarious.
Sleepy nodded off, and nothing Flora did would interest the puppy who would crack an eye, yawn, and put her head back on her paws.
I nudged Christian. “Can you see if Stormy might get Sleepy interested? Clearly she’s over her siblings.” I wasn’t certain I blamed her even as Tibby and Frankie started tussling. “Let’s separate them. We’ve got playtime coming up.”
As I hoped, Mickie took Frankie a few steps away while Soren attempted to wrangle Tibby into a sitting position. I couldn’t help but notice how nice his ass looked when he bent over.
Yum.
Haggis steadfastly refused to sit—or do anything except stand with her head cocked—like she was trying to figure out what Duncan’s problem was. As if her owner was the problem, and not her.
Typical.
Labs were generally amenable, but they could also be incredibly stubborn. Haggis was a prime example of this.
I showed Duncan how to guide Haggis into a sitting position and then when to reward her. Each owner had a pocketful of treats, and I was encouraging the proper dispensation of them.
Janelle had Roxy well in hand, so I moved on to Daphne and Penny.
Penny, for her part, was sniffing a particularly fascinating patch of grass. She might be the most mature of the bunch—which really wasn’t saying much—but she was also the most curious. Clearly very scent-driven .
“Okay, why don’t we try guiding her?”
Daphne sighed. “I just love her enthusiasm. Since my divorce, I’ve wanted to get a pet. My ex was allergic, and so I couldn’t have one. Now I’m alone again, it felt like the perfect moment.”
“Divorced?”
Her blue eyes flashed. “Oh, not like that. We were just better off as friends. I’m glad we didn’t have kids, though, because I believe, whenever possible, kids should have two parents. But not if they’re making each other miserable.”
“Did you marry young?” Okay, way too personal a question…but she doesn’t look more than about thirty. “Sorry, that was rude of me.”
She waved me off. “Twenty-two, which felt like a good time but, in retrospect, we should’ve waited. And perhaps if we’d waited, we never would have married. I never saw myself being divorced at twenty-nine.”
“Oh, you’re not much older than Christian and me.” I gestured to Christian who had, to my gratitude, awoken Sleepy from her slumber.
The puppy was playing with Stormy, who appeared quite amused with the game.
Not a lot of sitting going on, but I could worry about that later.
“Really?” Daphne’s gaze tracked over to Christian and, as if seeing him for the first time—or at least in this new light—she licked her lips. Then she returned her attention to me. “Glynnis says you’re new in town.”
“Yes. I was so lucky to run into her at the feed store.” I gestured to the group. “My first class. Well, here in California, anyway.”
“I want to pin the accent as Southern.”
“Tennessee.”
“Ah. ”
“Christian has the same accent. Although his voice is smoother than mine. He’s got this great soothing tone that can lull the most stressed person. And his nature is very soft.”
“Soft?”
“Well, considerate. He’s always putting other people’s feelings before his own. I’m hoping he’ll find someone who will honor that.”
Daphne eyed me. “You’re not a couple?”
“Oh, no. I’m gay and he’s straight. Best friends for twenty years, but not lovers.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to encourage me to ask him out?”
“I’d never do that.” Backpedal. Fast. “I’m just extolling his virtues.”
“You sound like you’re trying to find someone to date him.”
I cleared my throat. “Oh, I think Pepsi’s about to lose a gasket.” So was twelve-year-old Brooke, who really was too young for this. But each puppy needed a handler, so this was what I had to work with. Not ideal.
“I’ll think about it.” Daphne eyed Christian. “He is very cute.”
Instead of trying to sell him further—because, yeah, that had been a bad idea—I headed toward Pepsi and Brooke.
Thirty minutes later, after a short attempt at leash training along with a play session where all the puppies piled into the center of the training ring—except Sleepy who was, of course, asleep. By the time class was over, several puppies had to be carried to their cars.
As I gave Mickie some potty-training tips, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Daphne speaking to Christian.
Frankie kept trying to gnaw on Stormy’s leg.
My dog would, gently, bop the puppy on the head. She might’ve still been a puppy herself, but she had a good grasp of pack behavior— which would stand us in good stead as we progressed through the various classes.
Mickie and Frankie departed as I continued to surreptitiously watch Daphne and Christian.
“Do you mind if I ask a question?” A soft, masculine voice pulled me from my observations.
I pivoted to Soren and offered a broad smile. “Of course.”
Tibby, as if sensing this was an important moment, sat and gazed up at me.
“How can I help?”
His light-brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “She’s proving to be a handful.”
“Ah, lab puppies should come with a warning label.”
“My last dog was a boxer. He did come with a warning label—I just didn’t heed it.”
“Ah.” I chuckled.
“I loved him. Truly, I did. But he was definitely the…dumbest…dog I’ve ever had. I also miss him terribly.”
“They do have a way of worming into our hearts.” I eyed Tibby. “A boxer to a lab’s a bit of a leap.”
“I was looking for a placid dog. Clearly I wasn’t reading the right forums.” He gazed down. “I adore her, but this is the most placid she’s been since I brought her home.”
“Maybe you and Flora could trade dogs. She was hoping Sleepy would tire her boys out. Clearly the dog has no interest in doing that.”
Soren chuckled. “If I thought I could talk Flora into it, I might’ve considered it. At first, at least. Now? I’m kind of attached.”
Tibby, again as if sensing the moment, started chewing on Soren’s shoelace .
“Stimulation. You need to give her your full attention with lots of toys and games. Keep that mind of hers moving so she can’t get up to mischief.”
“Mischief is the right word. She’s a whirling dervish. I turn my back for ten seconds…” He shrugged. “I didn’t really need that umbrella anyway. My fault for having left it on the bench.”
“They can be good chewers. Puppy-proofing your house is critical.”
“Oh, I know. I never unproofed it during my entire tenure with the boxer—that would’ve been dangerous.
The umbrella was a moment of lack of concentration.
” He leaned in. “My brother was trying to hook me up with this guy. The guy’s cute, but totally not my type.
But how am I supposed to explain that to my brother?
He wants to be supportive, but doesn’t understand, uh, things. ”
I eyed him. “Yes, dating gay guys can get complicated.”
His face brightened. “Right? I hoped you’d understand.”
“Oh, I do. Christian has tried to set me up a few times, and I was like, uh, no. Just…no.”
“Top?”
“Yep.”
“And he’s tried to set you up with other tops?”
“Yep. Bossy ones at that.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with a puppy parent, but I was in need of someone who understood. “He’s convinced the one is out there for me somewhere.” I sighed. “And here I am, trying to set him up.”
“Daphne’s a great woman. She was honest with us about her newly divorced status. If I knew someone to set her up with, I totally would. She’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
I smiled. “That’s great to hear. Christian’s a bit of a dark horse. He can come across as quite serious sometimes—” Even as I said the words, he and Daphne burst out laughing. “Well, okay, then. Clearly they’ve discovered their senses of humor.”
Soren nudged me. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll bond over dogs. I’ll head to the pet store and buy more toys.”
“Try some food puzzles as well. Tibby’s young, but she’s food motivated and clever—she might take to them quicker than you think.”
“Got it.” He pressed a hand to my arm. “Thank you.”
Instead of being disconcerted by the unexpected grasp, I was touched. I hadn’t had any physical contact with anyone since I left Leroy.
Well, except the amazing hugs Christian gave me whenever I seemed to need them.
I met Soren’s gaze. “See you next week.” I bent at the waist and stroked Tibby’s soft fur. “You be good.”
She blinked up at me with enormous dark-brown eyes.
Yeah, I think this might just work.