Free All That Glitters (Raine Stockton Dog Mysteries) by Donna Ball Page A

an item from the local shelter’s wish list which we collected in a big basket by the door and delivered to the shelter after the party.  We opened up the play yard and let the dogs run and jump and tumble the way God intended, and, as a happy bonus, we usually signed up a handful of new clients for obedience, grooming or boarding at the end of the day.  It really was my favorite party of the year.
    I kept the training room comfortably cool for the dogs, but as we left it for the gaily decorated entry foyer a rush of  warm air, holiday music,  and the scent of a very expensive cinnamon and clove kennel deodorizer greeted u s. Dog-bone studded garland wrapped in twinkling lights wreathed the room, and a fragrant spruce tree , also twinkling with lights, sat on an elevated table in a corner of  the room.   Where  dogs are involved, it’s never a good idea to put the Christmas tree on the floor.
    Two long folding tables, decorated with plastic red-and-white paw print tablecloths, were laden with platters of dog biscuits and human cookies, all clearly labeled to avoid misunderstanding. Gingerbread cookies shaped like dog biscuits are a great addition to any dog-themed Christmas party… except when the dog biscuits are also decorated to look like gingerbread men. There was a basket of festive holiday bandannas for our canine guests and a bowl of fruit punch for our human guests , and the centerpiece was a miniature plastic Christmas tree decorated with photographs of all our obedience school graduates for the year.  After the party, the proud parents would take their pup’s picture home as a memento.
    I held the door open with my hip for  Cisco, who looked stylish in his own bright green “Santa’s Helper” bandanna.  Naturally, he was stopped short when the two ends of the long cardboard tube he carried in his mouth wouldn’t fit through the door, but he solved the problem by neatly snapping the tube in two with his teeth, picking up both piece s , and prancing through the door with his golden tail waving proudly.
    “Hey, look at all this cool dog stuff,” Melanie said as I set the ornament box on the floor.   She held up a box of silver paw print ornaments,  and  giggled when she found a golden retriever with a pair of wings and a halo.  “Is this Cisco?”
    “Hardly.”  I relieved Cisco of the cardboard tube and stuffed it in the trash.  Before I could tu r n around he had snatched a cookie from the tray on the table , swallowed it, and was sitting innocently by Melanie’s side with nothing but a few multi-colored sugar sprinkles on his muzzle to testify to his crime.  It’s pointless to correct a dog for his misbehavior after he’s consumed the evidence , particularly when there aren’t even any witnesses to the crime— so all I could do was scowl meaningfully at Cisco and push the cookie tray away from the edge of the table. “Is there one with horns and a pointy tail?”
    “Cisco is a good dog,” Melanie corrected me pompously, giving Cisco a scratch behind the ears before stretching to hang the golden retriever angel on the tree.  “You just don’t appreciate him. Right, Cisco?”
    It was Christmas, and I was in a good mood, so I did not remind Melanie that this morning alone Cisco had overturned the Christmas tree while dashing to the door to greet her when she arrived, left muddy paw prints on her dad’s cashmere coat, jumped on the kitchen counter and consumed half a bowl of frosting before I could stop him, and hopelessly shredded the brand new roll of wrapping paper that used to be on the cardboard tube he had just finished mangling.  Granted, that last one was my fault: I should have been watching him. 
    “I appreciate him plenty,” I told Melanie.  “But I can appreciate him just as much while he’s having a nice time - out in the kennel.”
    Cis co gave a little woof of protest and dug into the ornament box, coming up with a hand-knitted sheep given to me by my aunt.