Unleashed (A Melanie Travis Mystery) Read Online Free Page A

any informed dog lover feels toward pet shops.
    “Sam told me I had to find a breeder. Someone who did genetic testing and had healthy puppies with good temperaments. Before he started all his lecturing, I figured I was just looking for something cute with floppy ears and big feet.”
    “I dragged him to a dog show,” Sam said. “ Drag being the operative word.”
    “I couldn’t believe he wanted me to waste a whole Saturday watching pampered canines prance around a show ring.”
    “You couldn’t believe they didn’t have a beer stand.” Sam laughed.
    “Hey, you sold the thing to me as a sporting event, okay? Let’s just say I had certain expectations. And then this big guy steers me to the Poodle ring. The Poodle ring! Where I discover that otherwise sane-looking people are putting hair spray on their dogs.”
    Been there, done that, I thought, enjoying the teasing banter, and the glimpse of what the two men must have been like when they were young and still friends.
    “I got him out of there just in time,” Sam said, grinning. “Luckily the Saint Bernards were coming up two rings over.”
    “Once I saw them, I was hooked.” Brian smiled with pleasure at the memory. “They were massive, majestic. I’d never seen anything so beautiful. I got on a waiting list for a litter that afternoon and bought Boris’s great-grandmother six months later.”
    “Did you show her?” I asked.
    “Of course. I got lucky for a first-timer and she was a good one. Even with a rank beginner on the end of the lead, she still managed to pick up half a dozen points. That first purple ribbon sealed my fate; there was no turning back after that. Her breeder stepped in when it was time for the majors and finished the job. Boris is the third generation of my own breeding, and there have been half a dozen champions along the way.”
    “Is Boris finished?” I asked, exhibitor’s shorthand for “has he accumulated enough points to be awarded the title of champion?”
    The big dog knew we were talking about him. Lying along the edge of the rug, he lifted up his head and stared at us balefully. Brian picked up an oatmeal cookie that had been resting on the edge of his saucer and tossed it. Boris’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. I never even saw him swallow, but his tail thumped up and down happily on the floor.
    Sheila rolled her eyes. The Pugs looked annoyed. It wasn’t hard to figure out that they wanted a treat, too. “Now look what you’ve started,” she said.
    Brian was unrepentant. “Live a little,” he said. “Cookies for everyone.”
    “Feed them from the table even once, and they’ll expect it every time. Besides, training issues aside, my guys have to watch their weight.” Looking as disgruntled as her Pugs, Sheila got up, whistled the dogs to her, and went to the back door to put them all outside.
    Brian shook his head slightly as he watched her go, then turned back to me. “In answer to your question, no, Boris isn’t finished. I’m taking a break from the show ring until after the magazine is launched. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I have a conflict of interest.”
    “What Brian really means,” Sheila said, returning to the table, “is that he’s lying low until we see how people take things—how many judges, exhibitors, and officials we manage to tick off with the first issue.”
    “Do you expect it to be that controversial?” I asked.
    “We’re starting out with a bang,” said Brian. “And we’ll know how it goes over soon enough. The debut issue is already in the mail, and we’ll be handing out freebies at the show this weekend.”
    “I’ll be disappointed if our audience doesn’t think Woof! is controversial,” Sheila said earnestly. “But I hope people make an effort to understand what we’re trying to do. The dog show world is a fascinating subculture. Some people, even some who’ve been exhibiting for years, still see mostly the surface.
    “It’s like a Poodle’s show