Melanie Travis 06 - Hush Puppy Read Free Page A

weighs more than forty pounds. Catching her in full flight requires both strength and dexterity, but I was used to the task by now.
    Margaret Turnbull, Faith’s breeder and my Aunt Peg, would have been horrified to see one of her dogs exhibit such a lack of manners. The Cedar Crest Standard Poodles are an illustrious line, well-known throughout the dog show world for producing generation after generation of eye-catching champions. Each of Aunt Peg’s dogs is impeccably trained, and she never allows anything less than the best behavior.
    Unfortunately for me, it’s a standard she also applies to her relatives.
    Since Aunt Peg wasn’t around to see, however, I gave Faith a hug and ruffled my hands through the long black mane coat on the front half of her body. Poodles have long been one of the most popular breeds in the world and, as an admittedly biased owner, it wasn’t hard for me to see why. Beneath the highly stylized show clip, Faith was a dog of uncommon intelligence and dignity. She understood my moods and most of what I said, and had a marvelous sense of humor. In short, she was the perfect companion.
    It didn’t surprise me that Honoria Howard had chosen to include her Poodle when she’d had her portrait painted. Poodle owners tend to think of their pets as members of the family. No doubt she’d felt the same way about Poupee as I did about Faith.
    I’d just let the dog out into the fenced backyard when the squeal of air brakes signaled the arrival of Davey’s bus. My son never does anything at half speed. As I headed toward the front of the house, I could already hear the front door opening.
    “Hey!” called Davey, slamming the door behind him. “Where is everyone?”
    I reached the hall and saw my son standing just inside the door. He looked like he’d grown an inch since I’d sent him to school that morning. A new gap had appeared between the hem of his jeans and the tops of his sneakers. Luckily for the sake of warmth, it was filled by gym socks, currently an indeterminate shade of muddy brown. They’d been white when he’d left.
    Davey dropped his backpack and jacket on the floor. “Where’s Faith?” he asked. She was usually the first to greet him.
    “Outside in back. I just got home. Do I get a hug?”
    He shied away and made a face. Six years old and already cynical.
    “Pick up your backpack,” I said. “And hang your jacket in the closet where it belongs.”
    “I should have hugged you.” Davey sighed. “It would have been easier.”
    I’ve always been a sucker for logic like that. I held out my arms. “There’s still time to change your mind.”
    “Okay.” He allowed a brief embrace. Thank goodness Aunt Peg wasn’t there; no doubt she’d have complained about the way I was training my dog and my child.
    Not that I tend to pay much attention to things like that. For most of Davey’s life, I’ve been a single mother. Though Davey’s father had recently reappeared, and we were now on good terms (albeit from opposite ends of the country), I was still accustomed to doing things my own way.
    All that was due to change soon; several months earlier I’d gotten engaged. Sam Driver and I have known each other for nearly two years. Not unexpectedly, we’d met over a dog, a stolen Standard Poodle that each of us was pursuing for a different reason. By the time we got things sorted out, it was clear to both of us that our initial attraction was also worth investigating.
    Sam’s the kind of man women fantasize about but never expect to find. I had no idea how I’d gotten so lucky, but I wasn’t about to question my good fortune, especially as Davey and Sam adored each other. Even the notoriously picky Aunt Peg approved, though the fact that he was a fellow Standard Poodle breeder had obviously swayed things in his favor. We’d be seeing Sam and his new puppy, Tar, at the show the next day.
    I brought Faith in from outside, gave her a biscuit and put out a glass of milk and plate