Dog Helps Those (Golden Retriever Mysteries) Read Online Free Page A

a gentle Spanish accent.
    “That’s why she’s such a good fund manager,” Matthew said. “Wouldn’t trust my investments to anyone else.”
    “Nor me,” Carissa said.
    When Rita finished her run, Rick said, “Come on, let’s see how Rochester does in public.”
    He led us over to the training ring, and pointed out the order of the stations. Rita had a lot more equipment than Rick did, including a big yellow hoop for the dog to leap through and several different limbo poles at different heights. The course was laid out with a couple of sharp turns and reverses as well.
    “I’ll take Rascal through once so Rochester can watch,” Rick said.
    Rick didn’t look quite as crazy as Rita did, but I had to stifle a laugh a couple of times at how silly he looked, chasing around the course. Rascal seemed to love it, and Rochester was once again straining at his lead to follow him.
    Rick was only slightly out of breath when he returned, though his hair was mussed and his cheeks were a bit flushed. “I get almost as good a workout as Rascal does,” he said. “This’ll be good for you, too.” He poked me in the stomach.
    I didn’t deign to answer. “Come on, Rochester, let’s show these rubes how it’s done.”
    We walked out in the ring and I unhooked Rochester’s leash. As soon as I did he took off for the first obstacle, a low-hung limbo pole.
    “He’s got to start from a sitting position,” Rick said.
    “Rochester! No!” I called. “Come back here!” He stopped and looked back at me. I pointed to the ground next to me and he ambled back. “Sit.” I pointed down.
    He stood there.
    I pushed on his behind, and said, “Sit” again. This time he agreed.
    Rick said, “I’ll time you. Ready, set, go.”
    As soon as he said that, I ran toward the first pole, waving Rochester to accompany me. It took him a couple of seconds to follow, and I worried that he was going to stay there and make me look like a fool. But once he took off, we were running together and I was mimicking the hand motions I’d seen Rick make. I focused on trying to remember the right order of the obstacles, and on moving Rochester through his paces.
    He zigzagged around the steps at first, finally climbing them when I patted the top level, and knocked over the second limbo pole. He still didn’t get the idea of the weave poles, and when he went over one tall pile of fake rocks he landed in a big puddle of mud and splashed my jeans.
    By the time the course was over I was panting for breath, and so was Rochester.
    Rita stood next to Rick, arms folded across her chest, shaking her head. “That was terrible. Your dog is totally out of control.”
    “It’s his first time,” I said.
    “It’s not about that. I’ll bet he doesn’t obey a single one of your commands.”
    I was insulted. “He’s a very smart dog.”
    She turned to Rochester. “Down,” she said, pointing to the ground. He just looked at me.
    “Down, boy,” I said, mimicking her.
    Instead of obeying, he jumped up and put his muddy paws on my thighs.
    “See what I mean?” Rita barked. “You’ll never be a success at agility unless you learn to control your dog.”
    She turned away, like we were wasting her time, and Rochester nuzzled against the back of her leg. Immediately she whirled on him and said, “NO!” in such a commanding voice that it startled the poor dog into plopping onto his butt, looking up.
    I was torn, wanting to tell Rita Gaines off, but at the same time recognizing she was right—Rochester did exactly what he wanted and I let him.
    “Come on, I want to watch some of the other dogs,” Rick said, turning back toward the main ring. “There’s a lot of strategy involved in handling.”
    “Something I seem to be lacking in.”
    “Rita says it’s all about the relationship between you and the dog. You have to show Rochester that you’re the pack leader. I’ll bet you feed him dinner before you eat yourself, don’t you?”
    “Sure. Why