The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar Read Online Free Page B

first, and then the woman next to me with the cockapoo. “I’m Ann Major. I’m an assistant press secretary to President Parks. And this is my dog, Pickles.”
    After that, nine more Canine Buddies introduced themselves and their CITs. There was a poodle, four golden retrievers, a labradoodle, a Chihuahua and two I’m-not-sure-whats. Last was Mr. Bryant. He is always very dignified.
    â€œI am Mr. Willis Bryant,” he said, “and this is my canine, Cottonball.”
    In case you have never seen Canine Class on TV, this is how it goes: Mr. Mormora takes one of the CITs as an example and gives him a command—like “sit.”
    The dog sits. This could be a mean dog or a dumb dog or a dog that speaks Chinese, it doesn’t matter. The dog sits. No one knows how Mr. Mormora does this, but he does.
    That day, all the other dogs and their trainers watched Mr. Mormora convince a CIT golden retriever to sit several different times from several different angles. Then he turned toward the rest of us. “All right, Canine Buddies, it is now your turn. Please, command your CITs to sit.”
    Instead of watching the golden retriever, Hooligan had been making friends with a Chihuahua. I did not have a good feeling. But I stood up straight like Mr. Mormora did, and I tried to copy the way he talks: “Hooligan—sit.”
    Hooligan didn’t move. Pickles scratched herself, and the I’m-not-sure-what on our left tried to dig a hole. Only a poodle and Mr. Bryant’s dog, Cottonball, actually sat.
    Then . . . so did Hooligan.
    It was a miracle! From where the spectators were standing, I heard Tessa squeal. When I looked over, I noticed a whole bunch of cameras were aimed at Hooligan. The press loves him almost as much as they love Ms. Kootoor.
    After that, all the CITs tried sitting again. And again. And Hooligan sat every time! Later, when we tried “stay,” he did that every time, too.
    Canine Class only lasts forty-five minutes because, as Mr. Mormora explained it, “canine concentration is not powerful.” Even so, there’s some waiting around, so I asked Ms. Major about being an assistant press secretary. She told me she used to be a TV reporter, but thenshe went to work for my mom’s campaign. Now her job is mostly keeping track of what’s written and broadcast about our family, and Hooligan, too.
    The end of Canine Class is always the same. Mr. Mormora thanks everyone for participating and gives out Canine Cookies. They are the shape of ordinary dog biscuits, but they have red and yellow stripes.
    â€œYou see how it is that Hooligan is a star pupil?” said Mr. Mormora. “It is the positive peer pressure. With the younger dogs, he wants to be a leader.”
    I hadn’t noticed Ms. Kootoor with the other spectators, but now she was walking toward us with Dad and Tessa. “Great job, puppy!” she said, and scratched him behind the ears. He nosed her hand and whined.
    Then Mr. Bryant came up, pulled along by Cottonball.
    â€œSit!” said Mr. Bryant. Cottonball looked at him, trying to remember what that word meant.
    Tessa said, “Like this,” and sat down on the grass. Cottonball didn’t copy her, he tackled her! Then Hooligan piled on.
    Mr. Bryant and I were trying to pull them off when Mr. Mormora spoke: “Gentlemen?”
    Right away the dogs backed off and sat down.
    Tessa wasn’t hurt—unless dog slobber hurts. She wiped her face and asked Mr. Mormora, “How do you
do
that?”
    He smiled. “It is just having the confidence. Dogs respect confidence. By the time we hold graduation on Wednesday, each of these dogs will be a fine exampleof Canine Class, and one will be Top Dog—the number one student. That dog will receive a blue ribbon, and its picture will appear on boxes of Canine Cookies. Hooligan, what do you think? Have you the makings of the Top Dog?”

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