Rachel Alexander 03 - A Hell of a Dog

weren’t getting an even break in the profession they practiced or, in most cases, longed to practice. I saw a few of the women looking back toward me, perhaps thinking that I would argue Tracy’s point. But that wasn’t the way the panel worked. Each of us, even Tracy, was entitled to her own opinion, and the fact that I disagreed not only with the content of it but with her negative attitude was beside the point.
    A young man in the audience got up to ask a question. It was the brittle young man with the flat-coat that Beryl had worked with. He stood silently for a while, holding our attention without making good use of it.
    “In my area,” he said, spacing his words carefully, the way some children separate the food on their plates so that nothing touches anything else, “there are two women trainers. And as far as I can see, they’re getting more business than I am. Which is why I came here,” he added. “To improve my skills in the hope that it would improve my business. Nevertheless, I don’t see evidence of what Ms. Nevins is saying. If I recall correctly, at least half the books and tapes in my home library are by women. Of course my favorite,” he said, turning toward Beryl, “is Ms. Potter’s series, from the TV show she did in Britain. It’s just brilliant”
    Tracy’s dark look became even darker, her eyes hooded, her fingers tearing nervously at her cuticles. I turned to the phone bill from her room; nothing was logged there, but of course, room-to-room calls wouldn’t be. So all I could do was wonder what Tracy Nevins was doing while nearly everyone else was playing musical beds. Had she seen what was going on? Had she tried to cozy up to Alan or Rick or Martyn and been rejected? Maybe it wasn’t an unlucky man but a woman scorned.
    I pulled out the seminar lists and looked for Tracy’s name, first as a speaker. Sam had booked her on»y twice before, and she’d had a modest draw both times. She’d never done a video or a book. It was usually the people who did who pulled the biggest crowds. I wondered if she’d tried. There were several local trainers I knew of who, upon failing to get their method published, had self-published pamphlets. I wondered if there was a Gospel According to Tracy, and if the bitterness written across her face had to do with the words she’d just spoken and the envy she felt toward the successful men in the field. Again the same question: business or pleasure?
    I began to flip through the names of attendees at the seminars given by the three speakers who had died this week. And there Tracy’s name showed up more often. She’d attended three of Martyn’s talks, all on the East Coast, four of Rick’s, and two of Alan’s, which, since she was a foodie, should have surprised me. But it didn’t I would never understand it, but for years I’d seen people embracing disparate methods as if they could take a little of this and a little of that and make something new and wonderful, something that made sense and would work, when if they had given the least little bit of thought, it should have been clear that it was an impossible combination. Still, there was Tracy’s name, and for one talk, one of Rick’s, she had traveled all the way to Phoenix. Fancy that.
    “Being successful requires determination, good scholarship, and lots and lots of hard work, no matter your gentler. There are no shortcuts, my dears, no magic answers. Even if your mum’s in the business, you still have to make it on your own, don’t you?” Something was bothering me, one of those things you almost remember but not quite, but I had to let it go. Cathy was talking, and I wanted to hear what she had to say.
    “Beryl’s right,” Cathy said. “Personally, I’ve found nothing but acceptance in this profession. I’m a bit surprised by what I’m hearing today. From the very first, I’ve met people who were generous, helpful, and willing to share information.”
    If Cathy had wanted our attention, she’d just earned it. Panelists and audience alike, we were all staring, wondering on which planet Cathy had started out as a dog trainer, because wherever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t Earth.
    “I think women have not only found a comfortable niche in dog training, we’ve had a beneficial effect on methodology. We’re not as rough as the men. Well, as the men used to be,” she said, showing off the contrast between her California tan and her pearly white smile.
    As Cathy