Sleeps with Dogs Read Online Free

Chase alternately attacked the fallen oranges from the citrus tree and nipped at my shoes. I threw a tennis ball as big as his tiny head from the safety of my perch on the picnic bench, my feet tucked up and out of range.
    He was excellent at the chasing and biting part of fetch, but less so at returning his prize. I had to risk my fingertips as I wrested the ball away from him. If his sharp little teeth hurt that much when I played with him, there must have been some tears from the kids.
    I was relieved to see some progress with the positiveenforcement training, especially with the “sit” and “leave it” commands. While I held a treat aloft, he’d settle on his haunches, the ball momentarily abandoned at his feet. Head cocked, he followed the morsel with his bright black eyes.
    Unfortunately for me, when I praised him and offered him the snack, he chomped down on the treat and my fingertip together. At least I was able to sneak the ball away from him with my other hand.
    After my visit with Chase, I continued on to clients of Tom and Patty’s in the neighborhood. Thus far, they were all daytime walks or pet-sitting visits, as I had yet to start any overnight stays. I was grateful for the intro course of regular walks and house visits before what I felt was the advanced level of spend-the-nights, relishing the new rhythm of my days with the assortment of dogs I saw.
    Next on the list was a favorite of mine. Pearl was a golden retriever and poodle mix, a golden doodle, just like my Biscuit was. Of course, back then, Biscuit was just a mutt with the smarts of the poodle and the loyalty of the retriever. Breeders have since caught on to the exceptional blend of qualities, and this mix has become a boutique breed with a hefty price tag attached. Where our dog was free, offloaded on our delighted family by a grateful neighbor whose retriever got knocked up by a local poodle, I am sure that Pearl cost a couple hundred bucks and was the result of a planned coupling.
    Pearl looked so much like Biscuit, long-legged and fluffy, her curly cream-colored fur hanging down in her big brown eyes. While she retained the notorious gentle and sociable nature of the mix, she didn’t quite live up to the reputation of golden doodles for being exceptionally smart and thus highly trainable. She struck me as being on the slower end of the spectrum when it came to intelligence, though she more than made up for this with her inherent sweetness.
    And, though I’d never met them, her owners displayed some evidence of that, too. I could not figure out why they got a dog whenthey did. And this dog, too, needful as she was for interaction with and stimulation from her owners. Pearl stayed crated all day in the dining room and then had to wear a cone around her neck because she gnawed on herself, which they never took the time to train out of her when she was a puppy. At two, she needed exercise and contact—lots of both—and it hurt my heart to see her cooped up in that crate all day, every day. The chewing was probably just as much a symptom of boredom as anything else.
    â€œHi, cutes,” I called to her as I entered, propping the Plexiglas door with my foot as I worked my key out of the old lock. I was quickly finding commonalities between the houses in the area, one being that the locks were old and the doors even older. Many of the houses were split-levels, renovations and updates seemed infrequent, and there didn’t appear to be much turnover. A For Sale sign was a rare sight indeed. People came and settled along the wide tree-lined boulevards, raised their families, and there they stayed for decades to come with seemingly little need for upgrades.
    This family seemed to fit that pattern. From what I’d gathered, they had a little boy—blond curls and smiles from the pictures on the mantle—and there was another on the way, based on the furniture reorganization going on upstairs. I only