by Andrew Kole
“You don’t think they’re going to make us hike, do you?” Piper asked.
“I am not an outdoor dog.”
“I'm with Piper. That would be a little too much fresh air for my liking... and lungs,” Duke shuddered.
“I’m just here for the food,” muttered Aldo, a trickle of drool sliding out of his gigantic mouth.
“I, for one, will certainly not be doing any hiking. However, I will be doing my prescribed daily exercise routine.” Major said with disdain, looking around. “A little exercise wouldn't hurt most of you.”
Piper rolled her eyes at his arrogant tone.
“Wandering around on dirt paths is for losers,” added Major.
“Excuse me, Major... but we did lose,” Winnie said. “Every one of us.
Except for Lady Maya.”
“I didn’t lose,” snapped Major. “The judges simply made a mistake. I should have been Best in Show. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Shuttleworth paid that judge to give his dog the award... I mean, a golden retriever?... How far Westminster has fallen.”
The large guest house had been re-purposed for the occasion into a luxurious doggie paradise: soft beds with the Westminster dogs’ names embroidered on them dotted the bedrooms, dozens of new toys were available for play time and outside was a fenced, shaded grassy area complete with a small wading pool to cool off in if it got too hot in the Colorado sun. The dogs would be well taken care of, if not truly spoiled, while in Aspen promoting Cole Shuttleworth’s business interests.
When the team of handlers let the Westminster dogs loose in the doggie spa, each dog found their own favorite thing. Aldo, drooling, made a beeline to the buffet. Sandor used his nose to find a shiny rubber ball that made a loud sheep-like squeak when he chewed it. Piper immediately plopped down on her cushy bed, relishing its softness. Winnie found a large plush bear doll to cuddle up with. Duke marveled at the assortment of fashionable outfits laid out for the dogs. Even Major couldn’t find anything to really complain about. In fact, he got just as excited as the other dogs when he spotted a doggie massage chair and sighed happily as he relaxed into the mechanical fingers.
Lady Maya strolled into the dog spa. “How are you settling in? Is everything okay?”
Winnie rolled over onto her back and stuck her legs in the air,
“This is heaven.”
“Better than heaven,” Sandor said smiling from ear to ear.
“Top notch, spit spot,” agreed Duke in his English accent.
“Hte ofdo si atgre,” said Aldo, his words muffled by the food bulging in his cheeks. From his tone, Lady Maya understood that he was happy.
All eyes then turned to Major who thought for a long moment before answering.
“These quarters are... acceptable,” Major grudgingly admitted.
“I’m so glad,” said Lady Maya. “I really want you to feel at home.”
Duke sidled toward Lady Maya, dressed in a truly absurd array of clothes. “I get to keep all this when we’re done, right?”
“Of course,” Lady Maya responded.
“I don’t recommend wearing it all at once, though. You look like a fashionista’s closet threw up on you,” Piper added with a sly smile.
Lady Maya was too polite to comment. “Well, anyway, get some rest. The groomers will be in tomorrow to prep you for the launch party. I think we’ll all have a great time.”
“I could use a slight trim,” said Sandor shaking his dreadlocks to the side.
Chapter 6
Shelter in Trouble
It was early Saturday morning. Amos sat at his desk in the Aspen Animal Shelter, tugging at his hair as he slowly sorted through the day’s mail. Most of the envelopes were labeled things like “Final Notice!” and “Past Due!” Amos sighed. The shelter’s finances were shaky at the best of times. And these were definitely not the best of times.
Indy was curled up on his dog bed in one corner, while Bohdi watched Taylor play with three new puppies, all mixed breed mutts, that had been left in a box by the front door of the shelter the night before.
“Can I name them?” Taylor asked. “Might as well,” said Amos.
Taylor picked up two happy, wiggling puppies in the air, while the third, the runt of the litter, snuggled in her lap.
“I’m going to call you, Mo, Larry, and… Curly,” Taylor said, smiling at the third puppy. She then looked at her grandfather to explain. “I just watched the Three Stooges.”
Amos looked up from the bills. “You realize that one is a girl?” Amos nodded at the brown and white puppy.
“Mo is a gender-neutral name,” Taylor said smiling.
“Gender-neutral? Not sure where you’re getting your education.” “The twenty-first century, Grandpa,” Taylor said with a bigger
smile.
Amos smiled back at her. He sure was glad they were smiling again. Even if he didn’t have the money to pay the shelter bills.
Indy looked at Bohdi, who seemed a little jealous of the attention Taylor was giving the adorable puppies. “Being replaced already?” Indy asked.
“No... Why would I care?” Bohdi asked, before continuing. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be leaving soon anyway.” Indy nodded, unconvinced.
Suddenly, Amos blurted out, “The nerve of that guy!” “What is it, Grandpa?” Taylor asked.
Amos waved a gold-trimmed invitation at her. “Cole Shuttleworth has invited us to the launch party for his new brand of dog food. And you won’t believe what he’s calling it.”
Taylor looked at her grandfather, waiting.
Annoyed, Amos continued, “Winner’s Circle... I mean really, what kind of name is that?... Pretty darn arrogant from my point of view.”
Taylor frowned. “He’s that rich guy who wants to buy the shelter so he can knock it down and build some stupid condos, right?”
Amos nodded. “You’d think someone who owns a dog food company would be a little nicer to dogs.” And he tossed the fancy invitation in the trash.
A convoy of black SUVs traveled down the long dirt road that dead ended at the Aspen Animal Shelter. Inside the lead car was Cole Shuttleworth. In the backseat, a very sullen Spencer. “Do you have any idea why I made you come with me?” Shuttleworth asked.
Spencer shook his head. He really didn’t want to talk to his father this morning.
I asked you a question, young man,” Shuttleworth’s tone took a turn for the worse.
“No,” said Spencer wishing with all his might he wasn’t there “No?... Well... I’ll tell you why. Because someday my business
is going to be your business, and it’s time for you to learn how a Shuttleworth does things.” Shuttleworth said as if he was giving a lecture to an employee whose performance was not up to par.
Spencer couldn’t help himself and burst out, “You know I might have other ideas about what I want to do with my life.”
“Really... like what?”
“I’m thinking of becoming a pilot,” Spencer said, with conviction.
“A pilot? Flying is a hobby, not a career. At least not a career for someone like you,” Shuttleworth said dismissively.
Spencer folded his arms. His father really did not understand him at all. Spencer didn’t care about money. He wanted to do some- thing he loved. Not be chained to the company built by his father. Spencer couldn’t imagine anything worse.
In the shelter office, Bohdi heard the sound of cars approaching. He rushed over to the window and jumped up on t
he old dusty sofa in front of it to see what was going on. He barked when he saw the convoy of SUVs pull to a stop in front of the shelter.
Bohdi barked even more when Shuttleworth and an army of architects, surveyors and contractors climbed out of the cars carrying their equipment. Amos walked over to Bohdi, and scowled as he recognized Shuttleworth.
“This is just too much,” Amos grumbled. He was out the door in seconds, charging at Shuttleworth. Bohdi, Taylor and Indy hustled to catch up with the angry Amos.
“Get off my land!” Amos shouted.
“Grandpa…” Taylor cautioned.
Sensing the tension, Bohdi stood on his hind legs and rested his muddy front paws on Shuttleworth’s pants. Shuttleworth pushed Bohdi aside, “Get your mutt’s filthy paws off me!” Shuttleworth snapped. “He should be on a leash.” Taylor ran over and quickly scooped Bohdi up, holding him protectively.
“I told you before, and I’m telling you again, the shelter’s not for sale!” Amos yelled, the veins in his neck bulging.
“Calm down. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” said Shuttleworth.
“Calm down?!? Calm down?!? Why I ought to…”
While the two men continued to yell at each other, Taylor spotted Spencer sulking in the backseat of the Range Rover. He looked so miserable that Taylor felt sorry for him. She assumed Spencer must be Shuttleworth’s son. She realized she’d be pretty miserable if she had to live with that guy, too. So, Taylor smiled at Spencer. A really nice, big smile. The kind that invites friendship, or at least a conversation.
But Spencer was in such a terrible mood he just turned up his nose at that smile. Instead of returning Taylor’s overture, he sneered and turned away. Taylor’s face fell. Looks like she had misjudged him – like father, like son.
“Get the hell off my property!” Amos yelled at Shuttleworth. “Next week, this property goes into foreclosure and I’m
going to buy it for a song,” Shuttleworth bragged.
“You don’t own it yet,” Amos snapped back. “So, get off it before I do something I might regret in the morning.”
“Hopton, I will own this land. There’s nothing I want that I don’t get,” Shuttleworth said, doubling down on his arrogance.
“What about all the dogs? What’s going to happen to them?” Taylor asked.
“Not my problem,” Shuttleworth proclaimed.
Taylor couldn’t believe that anyone could be so mean to helpless dogs. Dogs who desperately needed them to survive. Bohdi couldn’t believe it either. The little mutt leapt out of Taylor’s arms, ran over to Shuttleworth, lifted his leg, and peed on the man’s fancy Armani pants and expensive Prada boots. Shuttleworth danced away, spitting mad.
Amos’ grin filled his face. He was more than a little amused as he looked at Bohdi with admiration. “My sentiments exactly,” Amos said. Taylor covered her mouth, trying to contain her giggles. Even Spencer cracked a smile, though he quickly frowned again as soon as he caught his father’s eye.
Bright red, Shuttleworth yelled at Amos. “This place is going to be history!”
“We’ll see about that.” Amos turned and strode back toward the shelter followed by Taylor, Bohdi and Indy.
Amos hung up the phone, looking defeated. He turned to Taylor who was pacing nervously, waiting to hear what the bank had said. “I’m afraid Shuttleworth’s gonna win. We have a huge payment due next week and there’s no way we can raise that amount of money in time.”
“What does that mean, Grandpa? Taylor asked.
Amos looked his granddaughter dead in the eye. “Sweetheart, I’m afraid we’re going to lose the shelter,” Amos said, his voice choked up as he spoke.
Taylor took Amos’ hand. “We’ll think of something, Grandpa.
We always do.”
Indy looked at Bohdi, very worried. “I’m not sure if they can take losing anything else.”
Bohdi’s eyes gleamed. He had an idea. A great idea. “That party Amos mentioned. There’ll be rich people there, right?”
“It’s a party. In Aspen. Seems like a safe bet rich people will be there,”
“Perfect,” said Bohdi. He quickly fished the invitation to Shuttleworth’s dog food launch party out of the trash can, then gently nudged Taylor to get her attention.
“What is it, Bohdi? What’s in your mouth?” Taylor took the invitation from him. Her eyes went wide. “Grandpa! Bohdi’s a genius!” She held the invitation out toward Amos.
Amos frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Shuttleworth is rich. He’s invited rich people to his party.” “So?”
“Rich people who like dogs!”
Amos quickly got to his feet. “We can find someone to save the shelter!”
Amos broke into a big smile as he scooped Bohdi up into an enthusiastic hug. “Bohdi, you may have just saved the day!” Bohdi happily licked Amos’ and Taylor’s faces as they congratulated each other, hopeful once again.
Indy looked up at Bohdi, “You have to admit it feels good to be part of the team, doesn’t it?”
Bohdi considered that Indy might just have a point.
Chapter 7
The Party
The invitation to Cole Shuttleworth’s launch party read:
Please join me and my family on Saturday, May 28th at 4:00pm to celebrate the launch of Champion Dog Food’s newest brand, Winner’s Circle. As a special treat, the Best of the Best from this year’s Westminster Dog Show will be co-hosting the party.
The honeyed light of the afternoon illuminated the long line of fancy cars stretched out a quarter of a mile on McClain Flats, eagerly waiting to enter the Shuttleworth Ranch.
Amos’ rusty old pickup truck looked seriously out of place. Amos wore a sport coat, tan slacks, collared button down shirt,
and a tie. The shirt was a bit faded and the jacket was a little tight. He had few occasions for wearing such a get-up, and Amos hated wearing a tie, but he didn’t want to stick out in the crowd.
Taylor wore a jumper over a pair of tights and cotton blouse. On her feet were her favorite hiking boots. Like her mother, Taylor rarely wore any shoes but hiking boots.
“You look very nice, Grandpa,” Taylor said.
“Thanks,” said Amos. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you dressed up.”
“It’s just a jumper,” Taylor replied firmly. She was not the kind of girl who willingly wore dresses. Too hard to run, climb trees and everything else she liked to do.
“I guess I don’t know the difference,” Amos said.
“Mom used to wear jumpers all the time,” Taylor said, reminiscing a bit.
The pickup inched toward the entrance gate. Bohdi and Indy were bathed and brushed for the big event and Bohdi’s purple bandanna was freshly washed and pressed. They leaned forward from where they were sitting on the pickup’s small back seat and peered curiously out the widows.
“This is one very snappy house!” exclaimed Bohdi.
“We do not belong in a place like this,” said Indy, ominously.
The pickup pulled up to the gate and stopped. Amos smiled as he manually cranked down his window. The security guard looked skeptically at Amos and Taylor. “You in the right place?” he asked.
“Absolutely!” chirped Taylor.
“Here’s our invitation,” Amos said as he handed the very slightly soiled invitation over to the skeptical security guard who eyed it, but shrugged and waved them through. Amos shifted into gear and the ancient pickup coughed black smoke as it chugged up the long, tree-lined driveway.
In the main house, Spencer, wearing a worn Boogies Diner T-shirt and faded jeans, was stretched out on the couch in the media room, watching television. Cole Shuttleworth burst into the room, wearing an obviously expensive, well-tailored suit.
“What are you doing? And what are you wearing?” Shuttleworth asked, agitated. Spencer looked up, but said nothing. “You need to get dressed, Spencer. Now!” Shuttleworth barked the order.
“I’m not going!” Spencer said emphatically.
“Oh yes you are. Champion Dog Food is a family business. How would it look if the press and our guests don’t see our happy family? Especially because one day, you’ll be in charge.” Shuttleworth said, making his case.
“I don’t know,” Spencer said. “Why don’t you ask mom?” Spencer knew it was a low blow, but he didn’t care. He was angry with his father for putting Lady Maya with the other Westminster dogs. Now Spencer was alone. Spencer put his own hurt feelings about his mother aside and used her as a weapon against his father. Spencer’s mom and dad had been divorced for more than two years. Cole Shuttleworth liked to pretend the breakup of his marriage didn’t bother him, but there was still a deep wound
there and Spencer’s words cut his father to the quick.
Shuttleworth’s face became a stony mask. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You never have time for anything,” Spencer retorted.
“The presentation starts in thirty minutes,” Shuttleworth said. “Right. Go tend to your money-making,” Spencer said. “I’m
not playing.” Spencer turned back to the television, pointedly ignoring his father.
“You better change your attitude right now, young man. Do I need to remind you Champion Dog Food pays for your boarding school, your ski vacations, your flying lessons, your entire life! You don’t start putting in a little effort, all that goes away,” Shuttleworth said, then stomped out of the room.
