Paws before dying

most graceful, unassuming winner.”
    “She was very tough and very gentle,” said a dark-haired, lanky young man I didn’t know. “I’m Jim O’Brian. I did my student teaching with Rose. In other words, I lucked out.”
    As the rest of us were introducing ourselves, Charlotte Zager ushered in a couple of women who also turned out to have been colleagues of Rose’s and who joined Jim in eulogizing her. “She had that wonderful, wonderful voice,” one of them said. “Musical,” someone agreed.
    “You wanted to keep hearing it,” the first woman said. “When you first met her, you’d almost think she was kind of a pushover, she was so quiet, so unassuming. But people found out soon enough! I think she was the most patient, persistent person I’ve ever met. And such an optimist! So positive. But talk about determined!”
    And murdered? Determined and murdered.
    “You remember the time she filed that 51 A?” the other woman said. “Jack, you remember that.”
    He nodded absently.
    “While I was with her,” Jim O’Brian said. “Four years ago. This boy’s parents were, you know, above reproach. As a matter of fact, they were copresidents of the PTA.”
    One of the other teachers opened her eyes wide and glared at him.
    “Forget that,” he said. “Let’s say they were Mr. and Mrs. Newton. Anyway, it was the old story, bad bruises and worse explanations. And Rose spoke to them, suggested counseling-But it kept going on, and she went and filed a 51 A.” He saw our blank faces. “Suspicion of abuse.”
    “They mustn’t have been any too pleased about that,” said Charlotte Zager.
    “Rose was not afraid of anger,” Jack told her.
    If she had been, I suppose, she’d never have married Jack-Or maybe whatever his family felt wasn’t anger, but something else, maybe something quite different.
    “Especially not if it had to do with children,” someone said. “Or dogs. That was Rose. Children and dogs.”
    Jack’s eyes filled with tears, and he put an arm around Leah. “I’m doing everything we planned,” she told him softly. “Kimi’s going to get her C.D. this summer, just the way Rose said.” My mother always used that same tone of voice to predict the canine future, as if it were preordained. Rose had led Leah not merely to want that C.D. but to expect it.
    “Is that that malamute?” Heather asked. She laughed. No one else did.
    “Yes,” I said with an edge in my voice.
    “Well, good luck. You’ll need it.” Dog's Life is always publishing articles about the importance of breeding for temperament. Heather’s parents evidently hadn’t subscribed.
    After that, people talked in twosomes. Jim O’Brian wanted to hear about my malamutes and said he’d always wanted one. When I said I might be able to find him a nice rescue dog, he looked interested. We eventually said our good-byes. As I stood up, Charlotte Zager, who’d been showing people in and out as if it were her house, thanked me for the chicken salad and started to accompany me to the door, where Jack joined us. Charlotte stayed at the door, though, while he walked us to the car, which I’d parked on the street in front of the house next door. The louts we’d encountered last time were nowhere in sight. Leah was a few steps ahead of us when Charlotte called out: “Watch for the cab, Jack.”
    “My father’s coming,” he explained. “From Florida. He’s e ¡ghty-five. He has never entered my house before.” He paused. “Someone would’ve picked him up at the airport, but he insisted on the cab. God forbid that he should show a sign of weakness. First he takes a ride from us, then Charlotte decides he’s helpless, next thing he ends up in a nursing home.” Jack shrugged. If he takes a cab, he’s not helpless.”
    “He doesn’t sound very helpless.” I had to speak up because the louts’ yard a German shepherd—the older, darker one, he poor guy we’d seen slapped around—was growling and barking protectively at the end of a long rope. Want a dog with a really rotten temperament? In between whacking him, leave tied up. It works every time. Anyway, the louts’ front door opened and the youngest brother, Willie, the trainer of the other shepherd, appeared and hollered, “Kaiser, shut up! Dale, come get your dog.” Then, catching sight of Leah, he ran his fingers through the hair on top of his head and ambled to the Bronco. I could see him talking to Leah.
    “After all these years,” Jack said,