Read Dog Days for Free Online Page B

to chase us off. By “us” I mean, of course, Buck and me. We were inseparable even then.
    It was a quarter till three when I got home, which meant I would have to hustle if I expected to finish all the grooming clients and have them—as well as the day care dogs—ready for pickup at 5:00. And if either one of those girls even so much as mentioned leaving early today, I would strangle her.
    I hurried Cameo into the rescue run and made sure she had fresh water and access to shade, as well as a chew bone I’d just sanitized in the dishwasher that morning. Then I changed my nice blouse for another faded Dog Daze tee shirt and crossed the driveway to the kennel office at a brisk pace.
    The first thing I noticed was that there was a bicycle parked inside the gate. It had a duffle bag sporting a red, white, and blue design strapped to the back fender, and a helmet painted with neon color paw prints dangling from the handlebars. Odd. I didn’t know anyone with a bicycle like that. Or with a bicycle of any kind, come to think of it.
    There were no dogs in the play yard, and all was relatively quiet as I came up, which was always a good sign. I was starting to think a little more favorably about the girls by the time I reached my office. There I stopped dead.
    The strangest-looking young man I’d ever seen was sitting behind my desk, talking on my phone. He had wild frizzy hair that was literally the color of fresh carrots, and it stuck out from his head about four inches in all directions. His eyebrows and eyelashes were also orange, although half-covered by square-framed white-rimmed glasses. He wore a bright yellow shirt with puffy short sleeves and a red bow tie. He was saying into my phone, “That’s right, Mrs. Carver, ten o’clock on Thursday. We’ll see you then. ’Ta!” He jotted something down on my calendar as he hung up the phone, and then leapt up from behind the desk, his smile as big as Colorado, his hands extended in joyful welcome.
    “Raine Stockton!” he cried. “Raine Stockton, I can’t believe it’s really you!”
    I just stood there, staring with mouth slightly ajar, frozen in place, and he rushed around the desk toward me. He wore the smallest pair of shorts I’d ever seen on a man, and electric blue Crocs. “I am such a fan!” he gushed. “I can’t tell you what an honor! I’ve been counting the days, the hours really …”
    He was coming at me with such enthusiasm that I thought he was going to try to hug me, and I threw my hands up in self-defense. “Hey!” I said, using the same tone I’d use with an overly exuberant puppy, and he stopped like a well trained dog. I demanded, “Who are you?”
    He crossed his hands over his chest in a gesture of contrition. “Where are my manners?” He spun on his heel and snatched a paper from my desk. “Cornelius Sylvester Lancaster the Third, at your service. I’m your twelve o’clock. My resume.”
    He presented the paper to me with a flourish, and I stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending. Then I had to stifle a groan. The kid I was supposed to interview at noon for the job. I’d forgotten. Still …
    “Where’s Cisco?” I demanded sharply. A sudden alarm overtook me and I whirled for the door. “Where are my dogs? Where are the girls?”
    I ran out into the hall and pushed open the metal fire door that led to the kennel area. “Cisco! Mischief, Magic, Pepper!”
    That of course incited an immediate eruption of wild, discordant barks, but among the excited voices I thought I recognized some familiar tones from the playroom. I hurried in and found Cisco, Pepper, Mischief, and Magic safely inside the roomy “resting” kennels I used for agility lessons when dogs were awaiting their turn. I went quickly to each of them, doling out treats from my pockets and assuring myself they were all okay.
    Cornelius followed me in some confusion. “Um, they were having nap time.”
    I whirled once again. “Where are the girls? They’re