Page 71 of The Jackpot Screwer
We all did as we were told, some dogs making it easier for their owners than others. Mani, however, was a star in the making and trotted alongside me, glancing up every few seconds as if to say, ‘look how great I am, Dad’.
“I’m Dwayne your instructor as you know, because you wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He looked down to the floor and I was sure he was pausing for applause. When none came, he carried on. “So, first things first, I’d like you to introduce yourself and your dog and tell me what you want to achieve from these sessions.” He pointed at a young couple around our age, who had a tiny little terrier.
The guy cleared his throat. “I’m Jeff and this is my wife, Hannah. We’re here with Buttercup because she won’t come back if we let her off the leash.”
“No damn wonder,” Bronte whispered. “Who’d want to be saddled with a name like Buttercup. Poor dog’s probably hoping for a new home and identity.”
I snorted out a laugh, earning a glare from Dwayne.
“Would you like to go next?” he asked, giving me a tight smile.
“Sure,” I replied and pushed Bronte forward. “You’re up, Lollipop.”
Stumbling forward, she glared at me over her shoulder. “You do it.”
“No, you’re the one who wanted to drive twenty miles out of town when I told you I could train him.” I winked and flashed my ‘I’m gonna eat you out later’ smile, because she looked so damn sexy. I obviously knew my girl well because she let out a breath and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Hi,” she said, quickly turning back to the group. “I’m Bronte and this is Carter.” She then bent to scruff Mani’s ears and as if he knew she couldn’t bend too far, he stretched up to meet her. “This is our little guy, Mani.” She smooched his nose with her own. “He’s so beautiful, yes he is.”
Dwayne held up his hand. “Let me stop you there, Bronwyn.”
“Bronte,” she corrected.
Ignoring the correction, Dwayne carried on. “I don’t know what your specific issues are with Mani, but I’d say they stem from you talking to him like he’s a baby.”
“But he is,” Bronte protested.
“He’s a puppy.” Introductions forgotten because we were seemingly the worst pupils ever; Dwayne addressed the rest of the circle. “That’s a classic mistake thinking your dog, your puppy, is your child. You are the master. The pack leader, not their parent.”
“Well fuck me,” I muttered leaning closer to Bronte. “I know you said he had a reputation for being good, but was that as a dog trainer or a dictator?”
“I’m beginning to wonder,” Bronte hissed from the side of her mouth. “I think I already hate him.”
If we hadn’t paid for the ten sessions up front, I might have been tempted to take my woman and my dog and just leave. Let’s say it was a wonder he hadn’t broken his arm patting himself on the back, he was that good according to his own endorsement on his website. And, of course, he charged prices that matched the reputation he’d given himself.
“Have you thought of having an actual child?” Dwayne asked, steepling his fingers under his chin, as he addressed Bronte again. “Instead of a dog substitute.”
I bust out a laugh as she gasped. She was wearing shorts and a tank with my shirt, unbuttoned, over the top, but there was no disguising she’d got one in the chute—damn her fucking glorious tits were evidence enough.
“What the hell do you think this is?” Bronte cried, pointing at her stomach. “Gas?”
Mani, sensing his momma was getting a little agitated, stood and did a little growl.
“Hey, Mani, it’s okay,” I soothed, bending to rub his head.
“Ah you see,” Dwayne said pointing at me. “Another mistake. Telling him it’s okay to be angry.”
Getting to my full height I crossed my arms over my chest. “He knows Bronte is feeling stressed,” I said thinking the money we’d already shelled out no longer mattered. “I was just reassuring him.”
At Veterinary school I’d done an evening class on animal behavior to get extra credit, so I was pretty sure I knew my dog, any dog for that fact, better than Dwayne the dick.
“No, no, no. That’s wrong.”
The guy never knew when to shut the fuck up.
“Excuse me.” Bronte stepped forward and by the way her hands were now on her hips, I knew she was ready to blow. “I think Carter knows what he’s talking about. He’s a vet in Dayton Valley.”
Dwayne, unphased by that snippet of information, shrugged. When I heard Bronte growl, I knew for definite that the over inflated price of the training sessions would have to be written off as a bad investment.
