Rachel Alexander 03 - A Hell of a Dog

followed the track. She held a glove in her mouth to prove it She and Chip were doing tug-of-war with it now, her reward for a job well done. But that was it. We had been promised tracking, and tracking was what we got It was time for breakfast at the Ritz and no doubt a continuation of last night’s argument about the relative merits of tracking versus air-scenting.
    I wondered why I’d thought Alan would be waiting for us with a picnic of goodies from Zabar’s, or be lying face up in the dirt, a small red circle over his heart and ketchup drooling out of his mouth. Alan Cooper, as for as I could tell, had no sense of humor whatsoever. Perhaps that was why he used a shock collar to train dogs, because he lacked the capacity to laugh at himself when a dog made him look like a fool. Hell, you can’t do that, you don’t belong around dogs.
    So what did this all mean—that Boris was simply telling the truth? If so, where was Alan?



OLD-FASHIONED

    T hat’s what Jack Godsil always told me,” Bucky was saying between bites of bagels, lox, and cream cheese in the Ritz breakfast room. “Every handler ends up with the dog he deserves.”
    Chip tugged at my sleeve, just like the old days, to let me know he, too, knew the real source of that quote.
    “ ‘Bucky,’ he’d say...”
    “Put a zipper on it, King,” Rick Shelbert said. Then he looked startled by his own boldness.
    “It’s amazing how many students a trainer picks up after he’s died,” Woody said. He put some milk into his coffee and took a sip. “Rachel, weren’t you telling me the other night that you were taught by Blanche Saunders?”
    “You know, my dears,” Beryl said, “none of the students coming today would have any idea what you are talking about.” She picked up a knife and slid a little pot of marmalade closer to her plate of toast. We didn’t only have our own pots of jam and jelly, we had individual creamers, sugar bowls, salt and pepper shakers, every amenity for people who usually ate greasy hot dogs on the fly between training jobs. “For them,” Beryl continued, “history begins with the people out there teaching seminars now, some of you, some far younger and far less experienced. Nor do they study breed differences. They choose a gadget and advertise themselves as experts. I hope this week inspires one or two of them to better scholarship.”
    “I wouldn’t count on that,” Bucky said.
    “At my age, I don’t count on much.”
    “I don’t think that all the changes are bad ones, Beryl,” Rick said, putting down his coffee, ready for battle.
    “Of course you don’t,” Beryl said, dismissing him.
    “I think the introduction of scientific—” Rick started to say, but Beryl didn’t let him finish.
    “Scientific? Scientific only means you have no feeling for dogs, no insights, no respect for their intelligence and ability to learn, no—”
    “My good woman—”
    “I am not your good woman, nor anyone else’s.” Beryl pinned Rick with an alpha stare. “You are about to be very condescending toward me, and I suggest you rethink your position. Actually, rolling over, exposing your neck, and urinating would be more appropriate.”
    Rick opened his mouth as if to respond, but began wheezing instead, his face turning red as he struggled for breath. I could hear the air whistling its way down to his lungs while he fished around in his pants pocket and came up with his inhaler. That was when the door opened and Sam appeared in the doorway, her face as pale and dry looking as chalk.
    She came over to my chair and bent over so that her lips were right next to my ear. “Something terrible has happened. I need you outside now,” she said.
    I followed her out the door and partway down the hall.
    “There’s been an accident,” she said.
    “Alan?”
    She nodded, then covered her nose and mouth with her open hand.
    “What happened?”
    Her hand came slowly away from her face and landed lightly on my shoulder.
    “He’s dead,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from tension.
    I thought immediately about the park. It must have been a mugging.
    “He must have gone to lay the track alone. There must have been two—”
    She shook her head. “The police have been here since shortly after you all went out to do the tracking, checking the room and asking questions. They want to talk to Audrey, Bucky, and Beryl, because they have the rooms closest to Alan’s, to see if they heard anything. I think we’ll be able