“Oh, for crying out loud,” I muttered, glaring at the radio, “you couldn’t wait twenty-four hours to talk about this particular pet owner?”
Truth be told, I knew that even if Tracy could hear me, she would not have listened. She’d have fed me some line, such as: “He who hesitates does not host a successful talk-radio show.”
“So, my fellow Boulderites, let me tell you about Miss Kelsey Minerva. She ignored the countless posted signs at the Pet! Pets! Pets! Expo, which specifically state that all pets need to be on leash. She brought her enormous parrot, with his enormous talons and a meat hook of a beak. There he was, sitting on the miserable-woman’s shoulder, free to attack whomever and wherever he wished. And here’s the worst part, my dear friends...Miss Minerva didn’t even stop to think that she’d trained this bird of hers to attack poor defenseless squirrels! When her bird was verbally menacing my poor, darling little beagle, she refused my kind request to please leave the immediate area. Then, of course, her terrifying parrot attacked! Needless to say, she used the oldest defense in the book. She tried to blame the victim when her bird with its razor-like beak chomped off a chunk of my dog’s ear. She didn’t—”
Russell turned off the radio as he stopped for the red light at the first intersection. “Sorry, but that’s distracting. I’ll turn it back on in just a moment.”
“No, let’s leave it off. We already know that nothing good is coming from Tracy’s lips for the next ninety minutes.”
He waited a beat then said, “I owe you an apology. I hadn’t seen or spoken with Kelsey in two years. She suddenly called a month ago and said she’d seen my name on the signup sheet for the group climb on the Flatirons, and that she’d see me there. She kind of attached herself to me, even though I told her right away about you. I figured afterward we’d go back to another two years between sightings. Which is what I’d have preferred.”
He’d certainly done a fine job of acting really happy to see her again. But there was no need to quibble about he-said/she-said. “Yeah, I figured it was something like that. What does she do for a living?”
“She models sports-wear clothing. And she manages an upscale women’s clothing store in Boulder.”
I rolled my eyes. No wonder she’d reminded me of an LL Bean model; I’d probably seen her in a catalog.
He reached over and patted my knee, giving me a comical look of horror, followed by a warm grin. “So what did you think about Kelsey?” he asked with comically exaggerated enthusiasm. “Is she going to be your best friend forever?”
In spite of myself, I laughed. “I should call both her and Baxter and have them drop by for cocktails tonight. He’s going to be thrilled at having this story broadcast all over the Denver metro area.”
“Yes, let’s!” Russell replied. “And be sure to invite Tracy. Tell everyone to bring their pets, too. Parrr-tayyy!”
Chapter 5
The next morning, I was gazing out the window in Russ’s and my shared office in downtown Boulder while waiting for Russ to finish working on my computer. My perspective was pretty much a dog’s-eye view of my beloved home town. This was a basement office, so the view from our long, narrow window was that of pedestrians from the knee down. After a year’s time of looking through this window, I’d become quite skilled at recognizing my friends’ shoes and my clients’ paws.
Russ and I met when I’d answered his officemate-wanted ad. He had rented the front office to me and taken the back room, but at this particular moment, I had ceded my desk and computer to Russell, in the hopes that, with his computer knowhow as an electrical engineer, he could help me with a problem that arose last night.
“Yep,” he finally said. “You’ve got yourself a troll, all right.”
I’d been hoping for a more enlightening pronouncement. “Having a troll is probably the least of my problems,” I replied. “But, the thing is, this is my business page. I use it to promote myself and gain more clients. The insults she or he wrote on my Facebook page last night and this morning hurt me. Both by scaring off customers and by making me feel bad. The server claimed it was able to block precisely this type of message.”
“You’ve deleted the previous posts from your timeline, I assume?”
“Four times. He or she keeps putting them up again, using a new name. And then I block that name, and another one gets on. It’s a public page, and I want to keep it that way so the public can find me.”
“There’s the paradox. If you want to gain customers via Facebook, you pretty much have to open yourself to the public at large...which makes you susceptible to losing customers due to a troll. That’s one of the reasons I don’t use it myself. I’m not going to be your best option for advice. I’m sure there are online help desks that we can contact. I also have a friend who specializes in security issues. I’ll take some screen shots, send them to him, and see what he has to say.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I hesitated, waiting to see if he’d state the obvious—that Kelsey Minerva was the likeliest suspect for being the troll. “It’s just...strange, is all,” I continued after a lengthy pause. “I mean, here the so-called troll is calling herself, or himself, ‘Macaw.’ And then ‘Magoo.’ Right after I meet your ex and her macaw. That’s not a coincidence.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. But with Tracy’s radio broadcast, half of Boulder and possibly half of Denver could know about Kelsey’s bird and Tracy’s beagle, and how you witnessed the whole thing.”
“But that’s just it, Russell. All I did was witness it. Along with dozens of other people. I asked Tracy last night, and she swears she never mentioned me by name. There was no reason for any of my fellow bystanders yesterday to hone in on me and stir up trouble for my dog-therapy business.”
“Allida. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. It’s not Kelsey,” Russ said firmly, holding my gaze.
“She was really coming on to you pretty strong...telling me right in front of you that you were ‘the one that got away.’”
“The point is, though, that I did get away. And Kelsey was being a jerk yesterday. She’s an interesting person and can be really fun to be around, and most of the time she means well. But the flip side is that she’s egotistic, shallow, controlling, a drama queen, and incredibly self-centered. Sometimes I think her problems with her temper are pathological.”
“You just validated my entire impression of the woman. Yet you don’t think someone with ‘pathological’ temper problems would post threats on my Facebook page? Why?”
He winced. “That’s a good point. I guess I’m just hoping she wouldn’t have done something like this. But, here’s the thing...and I can’t say this strongly enough, Allie. We broke up two years ago, and I never looked back. I’m much better off without her. There’s nothing she could ever do or say to make me want to go back to her. I told her that the last time I saw her, when she told me that she was single again. I realize that should have made that clear to both of you immediately at the pet show. I’m sorry I screwed up. Ever since I walked into that Celebration of All Things Canine yesterday, my ego has been taking a beating.”
“I know it’s hard on you to be so dog-phobic. We’re just going to have to find ways to work around it.”
“Easier said than done. Right or wrong, in our society, boys are taught to protect girls...to be physically strong and courageous.” He grimaced and gazed out the window. “Being afraid of dogs has been the bane of my existence. I was the butt of more jokes and lame pranks than I care to remember. Yet I was stubborn and stupid enough to take you to Denver yesterday, and....” He fell silent.
“It’s over and done with now. Lesson learned, right? No more accompanying me to dog shows.”
He sighed, still downcast. “Baxter seems like your type.”
“I’m in love with you.”
His eyes met mine, and he gave me a loving smile. “Thank heavens for that. I love you more than I can say.”
He stood up, and we shared a kiss, against our own no-kiss
ing policy when we were at our office.
Much as I wanted to put this behind me, I was still curious about his former relationship with Kelsey. For whatever reason, it was really hard for me to picture him living with a parrot. “Did Kelsey own Magoo when you two were together?”
“No. Shortly after we broke up, she bought him at a pet store, I think it was. She told me he was a suitable replacement for me.”
“Geez, what a bitchy thing to say. Sounds to me like someone who wouldn’t hesitate to harangue me anonymously over the web.”
Russell shrugged a little. “She has her problems. But she’s bright. She has nothing to gain by slamming you.”
“Well, not unless that old cliché is at play...‘absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ Maybe she wants to drive a wedge between us so she can win you back.”
“That’s not going to happen. Undermining you does nothing except make her look like a crazy person.”
“You can say that again,” I said, reclaiming my chair. “She’s either guilty of being my Facebook troll, or she’s being set up. I’m going to ask her about it at our appointment today. If she is innocent, she might have an idea of who could be behind it.” I looked at the clock on the corner of my computer screen. Half the morning was gone, and I’d gotten nothing done. I shut off my computer. “I’m off to check in on Bailey, then heading to Kelsey’s house.”
“Good luck. With both of them.”
* * *
A few minutes later, and twenty-four hours after the parrot-versus-dog incident, one of the two members of Tracy’s household remained fit to be tied. Bailey had come trotting up to me with his waggy tail and his eager, adoring dark eyes. Granted, he was wearing the lampshade-like plastic cone to stop him from scratching his ear until it healed, but Bailey seemed none the worse for the wearing of it.
Tracy, on the other hand, was agitated and unfriendly. She paced in the kitchen, guzzling coffee. Her mouth and throat were eerily unaffected by hot liquids. The caffeine, on the other hand, was not doing her emotional state any favors.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t sue her,” Tracy demanded of me for the third time since I’d first arrived.
“Because there’s zero chance you’ll get the kind of money to make you feel vindicated when compared to all the aggravation your lawsuit will give you.”
She simply groaned at me.
“Tell you what. I’m heading over to her house now. Give me a copy of the vet bills. I’ll give Kelsey the chance to write a check to you for...let’s say twice that amount. That will cover the costs, and give you at least a couple hundred dollars for all the aggravation she caused you. If Bailey’s regular vet wants to charge you to remove the other vet’s stiches, I’ll take them out. I know she’ll be getting off way too easy, but Bailey strikes me as happy and well-adjusted.”
“He’s not fine! He’s wearing the Cone of Shame!”
“Protective collars are harder on us dog owners than on the dogs. And dogs don’t ruminate over incidents like we humans do. They pretty much live in the out-of-sight-out-of-mind world.”
She shook her head. “He’s going to piddle the next time he crosses paths with a macaw.”
“What are the chances of that even happening? I’ve lived with dogs for all thirty-three years of my life, and yesterday was the first time any of my dogs has met a parrot of any kind. Just don’t bring him to any more bring-your-pets events.”
She grimaced at me. Still. That was an improvement over the groan. “You’re assuming that Kelsey won’t try to provoke me and start stalking me with Mr. Magoo in tow. Like I said, she’s threating to counter-sue me. She accused me of damaging her modeling career by disparaging her on my show. As if radio listeners hire sportswear models.”
“Russell assures me she’s the hot-headed sort who tends to get a grip on herself once she’s had some time to cool off.”
“Well, la-dee-dah. That isn’t good enough. I want to make her as miserable as she made me.”
I started to tell her that wasn’t going to happen, but rethought the matter. “In a way, she already is.”
“Oh, come off it, Allie! She doesn’t care the least little bit that her Macaw took a chunk out of my darling Bailey’s ear.”
“No, she doesn’t. But you love your job. You’re greeted with open arms all over this town. You get perks at a dozen restaurants and businesses that you frequent. People clamor to get interviewed by you. You’ve turned yourself into a local celebrity. And, most importantly, you’re a happy person. Except when you’re letting yourself be pulled into a tempestuous teapot by people like Kelsey. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do. That’s exactly right. Which is precisely why Kelsey should pay for wrecking my mood!”
“But you can reverse your mood, whereas Kelsey seems to be a terminally unhappy person who thrives on drama. She welcomes attention and strife. If you voluntarily settle for an amount of money that will reimburse your costs, she’ll be out of your life the instant you deposit her check. That way, you can be happy again, while she’s still stuck being her terminally unhappy self. Plus, you’ve already had the opportunity to vent about her on your show yesterday. The story even made the paper.”
She grinned. “They reported how the studio phones were lighting up with people were telling me how self-centered and disgusting she was.”
“So vengeance is already yours. Time to move on.”
Tracy grimaced. “I realize that you’re trying to play me, Allida. And I really, really hate to let her off this easy. But you’re right. One of us needs to show the other how to get along with people. Clearly, she’s not going to be the one who opens the door to a detente.”
“I agree. You’re the bigger person.”
She gave a husky laugh. “No kidding. I could body slam her and break her skinny little bones like they were toothpicks.”
“But you won’t. No more threats of violence. Okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wish I liked yoga better, but I’d much rather learn kickboxing.” She showed me a one-two combination with a push kick and a right cross.
A minute or two later, her hands were jittery as she gave me the vets’ bills to present to Kelsey as one-half the figure that she would accept for bygones to be bygones. If I was grabbing at a moving target. I suggested gently that she consider switching to decaf.
She opened the door and said, “Off you go,” without a word of thanks for my efforts. I left reluctantly. Tracy could be exhausting and exasperating, but she was also a person with a great heart, and a fiercely loyal friend. It was difficult for me to drag myself off to Kelsey’s house.
Chapter 6
“You made it here right on time,” Kelsey said to me as she opened her door.
“The wonders of GPS. And time-management.”
Instead of inviting me inside her home, she joined me on the front porch. “Come on around to the back yard. You can see for yourself what I mean about Magoo and the squirrels.”
She led me to one side of her rather downtrodden-looking ranch-style house in south Boulder. Her front yard was just off Broadway, a heavily trafficked road. We walked atop the river-rock mulch that spanned the gap between her driveway and a split-rail fence. Chicken wire had been fastened from the ground to the top rail, presumably to prevent animals from passing below the fence rails. I counted five squirrels darting away from us on this one length of fence. Kelsey waggled her thumb at the neighbor’s home, which was the mirror image of hers. “This is Squirrelly Shirley’s place, in case you haven’t already guessed.”
“I assume she feeds the squirrels, earning her the name?”
“Not only that, but the woman props her doors open so they have the run of her home.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Seriously, Allie.” She held up her palms, “May God strike me dead with a lightning bolt if I’m lying.”
“And may He wait until I’m not standing right next to you,” I immediately countered.
/> She laughed. “You’re still willing to go next door and talk about Toofroo and the squirrels, right?”
The phrase “Toofroo and the Squirrels” sounded to me like a rework of “Alvin and the Chipmunks,” and I had to resist a sudden desire to sing: “All I want’s a hula hoop” in a squeaky falsetto. I cleared my throat and resumed my professional demeanor.
“I’m sure you didn’t believe me yesterday,” Kelsey said, “but I truly am being eaten out of house and home. Look at how badly my eaves have been nibbled.”
I looked at her roofline, which was indeed badly gnawed, as were various edges of the trim on her siding. Even the wood frames on her windows were chewed up.
“Between that damned Malcolm and his Doberman, and Shirley and her vermin, I’m losing it. I’ve come to hate squirrels more than I can even say. She’s got every squirrel in South Boulder thinking that our houses are acorn silos, and that all they need to do is chew their way inside, and they’ll be in squirrel nirvana. Meanwhile, Shirley screams at Magoo whenever he perches on the fence between our properties, just to get back at me for fending off her freaking tree rats!”
“Have you talked to a landscaper about planting fast-growing bushes to form a hedge between your properties? Something that spread up, over the top rail? That wouldn’t solve the problem completely, of course, but the fence would surely be less squirrely.”
Kelsey glared at me, making it clear that a brief moment of sharing a laugh was over and done with. I made a mental note to dispense with amusing-to-me-alone rhymes.
“Shirley’s the one who created this problem,” Kelsey said. “So she should be the one to install and pay for a hedge.”
“Maybe so, but for Magoo’s sake, having a hedge on your side of the fence would delineate the boundaries of your property line better. And I would imagine it’d be a plus for you to obscure your view of Shirley’s home a little.”
She merely rolled her eyes. We rounded her house and entered her back yard. Magoo was there, playing with a plastic whiffle ball—rolling around with it on the grass and pushing it with his beak. He was so cute, he was almost doglike.
Of Birds and Beagles Page 4
