books—an encyclopedia of breeds, one on dog training, and one that peeked into a dog’s mind. Next to the books was an open sketchbook, and Max could see a pencil drawing of the dogs in the open field at the ACC.
“This is great, Jamie,” Max said as he picked up the sketchbook.
“Dog show,” Jamie reminded him.
“That’s right,” Max said. “We’re leaving tomorrow.” Somehow, some way, they were getting on a plane tomorrow and flying to Chicago for the Midwestern Regional Dog Show Competition. Jamie had been looking forward to this for weeks. He asked about it every time Max stopped by. And his dad was obviously looking forward to his fishing trip with just as much anticipation.
Max spent a little time with Jamie looking at his breed book, then went back out to the garage. Dog had crawled under his dad’s workbench and was stretched out on his side, snoozing.
“So, Dad, do you know anyone who could keep this dog over the weekend?” Max asked, gesturing at the slumbering basset.
“Not off the top of my head, but I’ll ask around,” his father said as he studied his lures. “Hey, Max, remember that red tail lure I had? Can’t find it. Could catch anything with that lure.” He launched into a rather long-winded tale of the time he’d caught a striped bass with that lure.
Yeah, Max was definitely on his own.
Eventually, he made an excuse about needing to feed the dog, and went home to think about who he could beg to take this dog for three days. And what to do if, by some miracle, Hazel came home while he was away.
Max lived in another old family house. It had belonged to his aunt and uncle, but his uncle had left his aunt for a coworker several years ago, and his aunt had moved to San Antonio to be close to her daughter. No one in the family had wanted to lose that prime piece of real estate, and everyone wanted Max to be close to his father and Jamie. So Max had bought it from his aunt far below the going rate around here, because Max couldn’t afford the going rate on an assistant professor’s salary. It was a blessing. The house was perfect for him, and it was close to campus, too.
In contrast to his father’s house, Max’s was more of a Spanish style, with some interesting curves and angles that he liked. The floor was Saltillo tile and wood, the ceilings lower than what was fashionable. Dog had certainly settled into the accommodations. He’d discovered Hazel’s favorite hangouts—the couch and Max’s bed. But the dog was still reluctant to eat and, in fact, hadn’t eaten anything today. Max couldn’t figure it out. He tried to coax him into the kitchen, but Dog seemed afraid to leave the couch, as if he’d miss an episode of Dog TV.
The couch is where they ended up that late afternoon, Dog watching fellow canines on TV romp in a field of green, and Max scrolling through his contacts, trying to find anyone who would save him from this mess. He made a few calls to old friends of his, but no one was buying what he was selling. “Buddy, you know I’d help you out, but I’m headed to the Oklahoma State versus Texas game.” And, “I would, you know I would, but my dog hates other dogs.”
He even called Aunt Jean, his mother’s sister, who was as deathly allergic to pet dander as his mother had been. “Maxey, you know I’d do anything for you boys. Except this. I’d look like a blowfish for a week.”
Max was down to his very last idea, and it was a bad idea. His bad idea was Alanna Friedman.
The thing was, he didn’t know Alanna that well, really. Besides auditing his class, he’d only seen her at a couple of departmental functions. What he knew was her research, which had been cited in several addiction studies done by the U.S. government. She was cute, and they’d had a very fun evening. Probably because she’d leaned forward, sloshed beer out of her glass, and said, “Let’s try not to be such scientists. Let’s just have some fun for once.” And then she’d kissed him.
It was the “scientist” remark that had struck a chord in Max. He knew what Alanna meant, and, frankly, he’d heard something similar from a couple of women he’d casually dated in the last few years—he didn’t emote properly because he was