Dog Whisperer (6 page)

“Does it really count as ‘roughing it,' ” her mother had said, the night before, “if all three of us are sitting here reading our Kindles?”

“
Yes
,” Emily and her father had said, without hesitating.

Anyway, with the electricity and everything back on, life felt much more normal. A couple of carpenters had come and installed new windows in her bedroom, so she could even sleep in her own bed again.

On Friday night, her grandparents flew up from New York City, and she and her parents drove down to Portland to pick them up at the airport.

As usual, her grandparents arrived with lots of packages and bundles. Her father always had cravings for things like “real” New York bagels and all, so her grandparents would bring him a lot of his favorite things to eat in big bags from stores like Zabar's and H&H Bagels.

On this visit, they had even more baggage than usual, because they were carrying a bunch of birthday presents, too.

“How is the birthday girl?” her grandfather asked, swinging her up into the air for a big hug.

“
So
mature that Mom and Dad are going to let me drive home,” Emily said.

“Better you than me,” her grandmother said.

Emily laughed. Her grandparents both knew
how
to drive—sort of—but, since they lived in New York, they didn't do it much, and didn't even own a car. When she and her parents went down to visit, Emily always enjoyed taking the subway, and she liked taxis even more. But, it was hard to imagine living in a place where you couldn't just go and jump in the car when you needed to go somewhere.

Her grandfather was such a nice and low-key person that Emily couldn't quite imagine him as a determined Wall Street financial guy, but that was what he had spent the first half of his career doing. Then, he had retired, and started a small nonprofit agency to benefit poor families in the city.

Her grandmother had been an English teacher at a public high school in the Bronx, and even though she was really short, Emily had always heard that no one ever had the nerve to talk back to her in the classroom or give her any grief at all. She was constantly hearing from former students, who would usually say that, at the time, they thought she was too strict, but now, they were grateful, because it had helped prepare them so well. The school had been really sad when she retired, because so many of her students went on to college and interesting careers.

They had dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown, where every plate of food looked like it took about thirty hours to prepare. Then, they went to a movie which she and her father thought was really funny, but none of the others liked very much. Then, they rode back home for cake and presents.

Zachary and Josephine were waiting in the kitchen to greet them. This was the first time she had seen her grandparents since she had found Zachary, so they had never met him before.

“He is very—large, isn't he?” her grandmother asked, sounding nervous.

“A hundred and three pounds,” Emily said proudly. He had been extremely thin when she first found him, and now he looked so healthy and strong!

“Goodness,” her grandmother said, and blinked. The reason her father had never had a dog before was because his parents had never had a dog, either. “How much do
you
weigh these days?”

“Ninety-four,” Emily said.

“Golly,” her grandfather said, also eyeing Zachary uneasily.

Emily was relieved when, instead of jumping up and trying to kiss everyone's faces, Zachary sat down politely and raised his paw to shake hands. That seemed to make her grandparents feel much more comfortable with him. But then, when her grandmother put her purse down on the kitchen table, Josephine hissed loudly—and her grandmother jumped back in horror.

“She's not going to scratch you,” Emily said quickly.

Probably not, anyway.

Zachary must not have liked it that she had hissed, because he made a low, critical sound in his throat—not a growl; just a canine comment—and Josephine promptly swiped her paw at him. He yelped, and leaped out of the way—which made her
grandmother
leap out of the way, too.

Her mother made a subtle motion with her head, and Emily nodded and picked up Josephine. Her cat complained rather noisily as Emily carried her out of the room and brought her upstairs.

“Gram really doesn't like cats,” Emily said to her. “You shouldn't be mean like that.”

Now that Josephine was in her arms, and had her full attention, she purred happily, and stretched out her paws. Her other grandmother—her mother's mother, who lived in California—would have said, “Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.”

Zachary trailed up the stairs after them, wagging his tail the whole way. When she set Josephine gently on the bed, Zachary jumped up there, too. This did not please Josephine, who smacked him on the nose with her paw. Even though he was about ten times bigger than she was, Zack whimpered and backed away from her. He retreated to the bottom of the bed, where he lay down miserably, resting his muzzle sadly on his paws.

Emily checked to make sure that he hadn't been scratched. But, as far as she could tell, the only thing that had gotten hurt was his feelings.

“You're all right,” Emily said, and gave him a soothing pat.

Zachary just looked up at her mournfully.

“No, really,” Emily said. “You're fine.”

Josephine stalked around up near the pillows, whipping her tail back and forth, making it very clear that
she
was the superior animal, and
completely in charge.

Emily imagined Josephine and Zachary sweetly cuddled up together—and was pretty sure that Josephine's reaction was along the lines of “Yeah,
right
.”

“Okay, I'm going to go back downstairs,” Emily said. “Try to stay here, unless you're going to be really, really calm.”

Seeing her head for the door, Zachary jumped off the bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. He started to follow her, but halfway down the stairs, he stopped and his ears pricked forward.

Emily wasn't sure what he was sensing, but she did feel one thing very clearly.

There was danger somewhere!

 

7

Emily's first thought was the sickening fear that there might be another fire. But, no, she was feeling something else—a distinct hint of danger.

“What is it, boy?” she asked.

He was already bolting towards the back door, and she followed him, taking the steps two at a time.

When she raced into the kitchen, her father held his hand up. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Where do you think you two are going in such a rush?”

“I, uh—” Emily had no idea, so it was hard to come up with a response. “Zack needs to go out, I think.”

Since Zack was at the door, barking fiercely, that was probably pretty clear.

“Is it okay just to let him out?” Emily's grandfather asked.

Normally, one of them always went out in the yard
with
Zack, to make sure he was safe, but he was so eager to push outside that Emily wasn't sure it would work this time. Her grandfather opened the door, and Zachary raced outside, barking a deep, threatening bark over and over.

“He is certainly—rambunctious,” Emily's grandmother said, nervously.

Emily thought she could see an image in her mind of dark shadows moving, but had no idea what that might mean. Dark, darting shadows, which looked sort of like people.
Sneaky
people. “I think we should call 911,” she said. “It might be prowlers.”

Both her parents, and her grandparents, looked startled.

“In the
country
?” her grandfather said. “There really aren't supposed to be any prowlers in the country. I'm quite sure of that.”

The best way to find out would be to go into the yard and check for themselves. Emily started to open the door, but her mother pulled her back by her hoodie, holding the telephone in her other hand.

“No,” her mother said. “Not happening.”

Oh. Emily hesitated, not wanting Zack to be out there alone.

“
No
,” her mother said, and quickly dialed. “Hi, Sonya, this is Joanne Feingold,” she said, to the dispatcher who answered. “The dog is raising quite a ruckus, and I think there might be a prowler of some kind outside. Could you send a car by?” She listened for a moment. “Great, thank you,” she said, and hung up.

Maybe someone was trying to break into the Peabodys' house, since they were out of town? But, no, Zack's barking seemed to be coming from the other direction.

Then, they heard a young male voice yelling, “Let's get out of here, dude!”

“Well,
that
sounds like an unruly punk,” Emily's grandmother said, with a stern-teacher expression. She snatched up a tennis racquet that was in the corner of the kitchen, near the back hall. “I think we had better go check that out.”

Emily's father sighed. “Mom, no. I really don't think that's a good—”

Emily's grandmother was already marching outside, gripping the racquet.

Emily hurried after her, with her mother and grandfather close behind. Her father was following them, too, but he was much slower on his crutches. Zack seemed to be down somewhere near Mrs. Griswold's house, which was boarded up, and in the process of being repaired from all of the storm damage. So, if someone wanted to break in, it wouldn't be hard to do.

“Exactly what is going on out here?” Emily's grandmother called, in a voice almost as fierce as Zachary's bark sounded.

“Lady, call off your dog!” a young man's voice answered.

As they got closer, Emily could see two high school–aged boys up in a tree in Mrs. Griswold's yard, with Zachary barking below them. One of them looked sort of familiar, but she didn't think she had ever seen the other one.

“Come on, call 'im off,” the other boy said. “We aren't doing anything.”

“And so,” Emily's grandmother said, “it just
happens
to smell like spray paint around here?”

Neither of the boys said anything.

Emily's mother had grabbed a flashlight on her way out the door, and she shined it on the house, where they saw words like “Witch!” and “Go Away!” spray-painted across the front. “Well, it looks like you two are going to have a lot of cleaning up and repainting to do, starting first thing tomorrow,” she said calmly.

“No way,” one of the boys said. “You can't make us.”

“Maybe not,” Emily's father, who had just caught up to them, said. Then, he pointed at the patrol car pulling up in front of the house. “But,
they
certainly can.”

Once the two police officers, Officer Peabody and Officer Jarvis, had been told about what was going on, Officer Peabody waved up into the tree.

“Hello, Rex,” she said. “Who's that you have with you?”

“My cousin Joe,” one of the boys muttered. “Down from Bangor.”

Officer Peabody turned to Emily's mother. “When does Mrs. Griswold come home from the hospital?”

“Tuesday,” Emily's mother said.

Officer Peabody nodded. “Well, okay, then, that gives us a few days to get ready, then.” She motioned for the two boys to climb out of the tree. “We're going to call your parents, and then go down to the station, and have a nice long talk about respect and good manners, and arrange for you and your cousin Joe to be
very busy
this weekend fixing this house up until it looks perfect. Understood?”

Rex and Joe nodded glumly.

“Come on, boys,” Officer Jarvis said, opening the back door of the squad car.

When they started to move, Zack barked sharply.

“Emily, ask Zack to stand down, okay?” Officer Peabody said.

Stand down? Emily looked at her blankly.

Officer Jarvis smiled. “It means that he did a great job, but we'll handle it from here.”

Oh. Okay. Emily nodded, and whistled once to get Zachary's attention.

He looked over, wagged his tail, and then sat down next to her.

“Good boy,” she said, and patted him on the head.

“
Very
good boy,” Officer Peabody said, and also patted him.

When the police officers had left with the two boys, Emily's grandmother shook her head.

“My goodness,” she said. “We had to come all the way to Maine to see an actual
crime
!”

Emily's grandfather nodded. “That was very exciting. We
never
get to see crimes at home.”

It was funny to think that they had to
leave
New York to find criminals.

When they got home, Emily's father actually locked the back door—which they almost never did.

“That was all pretty interesting,” he said. “But now, I think it's time for presents and cake.”

Emily certainly wasn't going to disagree with
that
.

So, they all trooped into the den, where her grandparents had stacked a bunch of brightly wrapped packages. She got totally great gifts from them, including various pieces of new hockey gear, all of which she immediately tried on. Starting in November, her parents had finally agreed to let her play hockey in a beginner's league, and she was really looking forward to that. She could already skate pretty well, but hockey was going to be an entirely new experience. Her father had asked that she please not be a goalie, so that he wouldn't have to watch people slam pucks directly at his little girl, and that seemed reasonable enough to her. Besides, it would probably be more fun to skate around, than to be stuck inside the net all the time.

“You certainly look fearsome,” her grandmother said, sounding a little bit thrilled by the concept.

Emily nodded happily. Her helmet even had cool flames painted on it and everything! “I'm going to be a goalie,” she said. “Dad's really excited about it.”