“Charlie can do that!” she announced. “Charlie can do that, only better!” Her pride in her dog was as strong as my pride in Rowdy and Kimi. The difference was this: my dogs were sound and healthy, whereas Charlie couldn’t walk without pain, never mind dance.
Turning to Wilson, I said quietly, “This family had every reason to hold a grudge against Sylvia, and since they’re here today and going after Mrs. Waggenhoffer, it’s obvious that they want moral satisfaction, justice, something like that. And they must’ve had it in for Sylvia, too. But they did not kill her for money, Wilson. They’ve already got a plan for that. I know because I stumbled into it. Well, I didn’t. My Kimi did.” As objectively as possible, I summarized the incident at S & I’s Burgerhaven and described the article in the paper about the lawsuit. “What they’re up to,” I said urgently, “isn’t exactly ethical or admirable. But they’re desperate. Those children love that dog! And these are children who have almost nothing. I know it’s not right. There’s no reason why the restaurant should suffer. And even if the Trasks had found something revolting in the food, I’m not sure that suing S & I’s would be the best thing. But I’m in no position to judge. And I obviously can’t go to the police or the courts or whatever, because I know what the Trasks are up to, but I don’t have any proof at all. But when you see those little girls with the dog, and when you listen to them and hear how much they love him, you can see why the grownups would stoop to this phony lawsuit. Wilson, it’s obvious that after they called Sylvia and didn’t get anywhere with her, they gave up on her, and they decided to go after the breed clubs and the kennel clubs, for the moral satisfaction. They hatched this scheme—”
I broke off. Wilson was staring at me. “S & I’s,” he said.
“Yes. It’s a burger joint, really. Fried clams. That kind of thing. This was the one on Route 20. It’s a local chain. But—”
“I know what S & I’s is,” he said, looking stunned. “And you don’t?”
“Yes I do. I just told you.”
“S & I’s,” he informed me, “is the family business. Pia’s father started it. Then Sylvia took over. Get it? S and I. Sylvia and Ian. It was Sylvia’s restaurant.”
Chapter 28
Subj: Re: Genetic Clearances
From:
[email protected] To:
[email protected] -----------------
Hi Cindy,
It isn't exactly a genetic clearance, but I forgot to mention that Rowdy has absolutely outstanding pigment. His eyes are so dark that they're almost black. Even his gums are black.
I'll get a new brucellosis 10 test. At the moment, I'm without a regular vet. It's complicated. I'll tell you about it when you and Emma are here. My animals aren't the issue. I am. I can always use Angell Memorial. Come to think of it, I could do with an angel myself.
Holly
Chapter 29
S & I’s. Sylvia and Ian’s. The Trasks’ rodent ruse no longer seemed quite so foolish, and Wilson’s suspicions about the Trasks didn’t seem quite so ridiculous. As I interviewed Erna L. Sporter, my mind’s eye kept seeing the faces of the little Trask girls, and my ears rang with little Di’s proud claim about her dog: Charlie can do that! Charlie can do that, only better! In dog heaven. In this life, what lay ahead for Charlie was a shaved foreleg and then a green needle. Unless the Trasks won their lawsuit. Now that I knew who owned—or had owned—S & I’s, I half hoped they did.
Although freestyle is a super upbeat sport and although Erna and her Dalmatian were two of its most upbeat enthusiasts, the interview depressed me, mainly because I’d already written the same kind of article a few hundred times, as had a few hundred other dog writers. The topic could’ve been worse, meaning that I could’ve been writing about what to feed (or not to feed) your dog, how to keep your dog cool in the summer heat, or how to prevent and cure flea infestations, an itchy subject I’d scratched so many times that merely thinking about it gave me human hot spots. Anyway, Erna's Dalmatian, Eddie, had three legs. Not credits-toward-a-title legs, earned by qualifying the required number of times, but four Dalmatian legs minus the one he’d had removed.
Dogs with three legs do so well that it seems apparent that every dog is born with a spare one, and Eddie was perfectly used to having only three legs and
Kostenlos Online Lesen 
