The Wicked Flea

wondered whether Douglas sensed that he had that same effect on her.
    When Ceci and I finally arrived at Clear Creek Park, only a few other cars were there, and the big field was empty. The unseasonably warm weather was persisting. The temperature must’ve been sixty, and the still air gave the sun a summery warmth. Although the trees had dropped most of their leaves, the grass remained green.
    “What a perfect day for a walk!” I told Ceci, without adding that standing around in a field was not my idea of fun and that it wasn’t Rowdy’s, either.
    Ceci voiced an objection. ‘That man skulks in the woods. The pervert, I mean.”
    The dogs were out of the car now. Anticipating a walk on the trails, I’d put Rowdy on a long retractable lead. He was bouncing around, his tail flying like a banner over his back. Quest was a bit beyond the bounce and wag stage of life, but at least he hadn’t sunk to the blacktop and fallen asleep. Gesturing to Rowdy and Quest, I said, “Ceci, with these two big dogs around, no one is going to bother us. Their combined weight must be over two hundred pounds, and they love us. I don’t think we need to worry. The exercise will be good for everyone.”
    Her expression remained hesitant. Hoping to lighten her attitude, I added foolishly, “If the exhibitionist tries anything, the four of us will chase after him, and the dogs will catch him, and then you and I will perform a citizen’s arrest!”
    Tickled by the notion, Ceci agreed to a walk and even led the way to a trail that began at a small footbridge spanning a dark, oily-looking stream and then entered the woods. Quest, for once, required no cajoling. Lumbering along, he reminded me of the grizzlies I’d seen on a TV show about hibernation. Ceci, in her pink-beige quilted jacket, personified traditional, civilized femininity. Taking advantage of Quest’s burst of energy, she was stepping briskly along at a pace that matched Rowdy’s and mine when all of a sudden that damned Zsa Zsa flew out of the underbrush only a few yards ahead of us and, as if determined to ruin our walk, flattened her ears, lowered her tail, put her hackles up, and came to a menacing halt. Her narrowed eyes were fixed on Rowdy. If Ceci hadn’t been there, I’d have sworn loudly. As it was, to my astonishment, Ceci spat, “Damn it! What is wrong with Sylvia! She knows better than this! Zsa Zsa, bad dog! Go home!” My temper snapped. Rowdy had emerged unscathed from his first encounter with the nasty golden. I had no doubt that he’d win a second fight. If Zsa Zsa tore one of his perfect ears or scarred his face, he wouldn’t care. But I would! No one had the right to hurt any dog of mine. And absolutely no one was going to ruin the looks of one of the best show dogs I’d ever owned! All at the same time, I reeled in Rowdy’s lead, called to him, and pulled the boat horn and my car keys out of my pocket. Zsa Zsa had probably been blasted with horns and alarms so many times by now that one more roar wouldn’t bother her, but the aerosol can of noise was the only weapon I had. Pushing Rowdy behind me, I gave my keys to Ceci and ordered her to take Quest and head for the car. Frightened, she obeyed me and did it silently, too. Then I directed the inadequate weapon at Zsa Zsa and pushed its button. Over the sick-sounding clamor, I shouted at her, “NO! Go away! Go home!” Confident of not being overheard, I spoke bluntly. “You stinking, rotten, miserable bitch, make one more move, and I’ll strangle you with my bare hands! Disappear!” In desperation, I scanned the ground, spotted a rock the size of a baseball, picked it up, and gripped it in my right hand. Zsa Zsa hadn’t departed, but she’d stopped moving toward us and no longer seemed to be on the verge of attack. Keeping one eye on her, I began to take small, calm steps back down the trail toward the car. “Watch me,” I whispered to Rowdy. “Let’s not start trouble with her. Good boy!”
    In almost no time, we reached the little footbridge. To my relief, Zsa Zsa wasn’t following us. I picked up the pace, and Rowdy and I soon reached the Bronco. Only then did I remember that Ceci couldn’t get Quest up into the car by herself. I apologized to her, put Rowdy in his crate, and boosted Quest into the back.
    Ceci was furious at Sylvia. ‘This is not right!” She stomped a dainty foot on the blacktop. “Wouldn’t you think Sylvia would’ve learned a lesson? But no! And to think