Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“Yes,” the boy said, trying to circle behind them.
Aspen moved closer to block his way as his mother called his name. “Doug! Stop right there.”
Immediately, the boy looked back at his mother. “I just wanted to pet the dog,” he whined.
“What have we practiced when we meet someone with a dog?” she asked, drawing closer.
“Hi. Can I pet your dog?” Doug recited.
“No. Boston is working now. He’s a guide dog. He helps me see and needs to focus right now,” Tim explained.
“Just a quick pet?” Doug asked.
“No means no, Doug. Thank you for the explanation. I’ll help him understand if you don’t mind if he watches Boston work,” the mother requested.
“Of course not,” Tim allowed.
“Come stand over here with me, Doug. Watch how this specially trained dog helps him negotiate through the store.”
“Toy aisle, Aspen,” Tim reminded her.
“This way.”
Aspen led the way. She looked back frequently to see Boston lead Tim around obstacles and paused to check for traffic when they reached the end of the aisle. The mother’s voice drifted to her as she explained what Boston was doing.
“He led him around that cat tower!” Doug said in surprise.
“That’s why he can’t be distracted by pets. We’ll always look for the service dog vest and we can see how smart they are from a distance,” his mother answered.
“They’re special.” Doug’s voice barely reached them as they turned into the toy aisle.
“That was a good mom,” Aspen commented.
“He’ll remember from now on and be excited rather than disappointed that he doesn’t get to pet the animals,” Tim noted.
“So how do we pick a toy for Boston?” Aspen asked, reaching out to stroke the soft fur of a bright green alligator that caught her eye.
“We don’t. Boston needs to choose.” He knelt by Boston’s side and stripped off his service vest and harness with the skill of someone who’d done it a million times.
Patting him on the butt, Tim instructed, “Choose a toy, Boston.”
As he stood back up to take her arm, Aspen watched the off-duty dog lose himself in the excitement of his task. “He’s sniffing each bin and all the toys hanging up on the shelf. Boston is having the best time.”
Plucking the alligator from the hook it hung on, she offered, “How about this one, Boston?”
He obediently came to sniff the reptile but immediately turned away. Aspen squeaked the toy to try to tempt him and laughed at the groaning sound it made. Boston didn’t even perk an ear her way. Aspen didn’t know why the alligator made her happy, but she didn’t put it back on the peg. She’d try again later. Maybe she could convince Boston.
After an extensive search through all the bins, Boston returned with a florescent pink ball and nudged it into Tim’s hand. The dog sat in front of his master waiting to hear his decision as Tim rotated it carefully in his hands, as if assessing it’s worth.
“This is an incredible choice, Boston. It needs to go home with us. Now, choose a squeaky toy. A quiet one, please,” Tim requested, drawing a giggle from Aspen.
“Let me guess—it’s loud at night?”
“I almost fell out of bed once. Some are noisier than others. Like yours. It’s perfect. A low growling noise,” he complimented.
“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s just so darn cute, I thought I might tempt Boston with it again.”
Alternating squeaks between a wedge of cheese and a hotdog captured her attention. “Looks like he’s deciding between a couple and testing the sounds. He really does understand you.” Aspen turned to hang her choice back in place.
“Let me see what you have chosen,” Tim asked, holding his hand out.
When she placed it in his hand, Tim ran his fingers over the soft fur to determine what creature had caught her attention. “A gator, huh?”
“He has the best expression. A big goofy grin,” Aspen shared.
“That’s the final deciding factor,” he stated, putting it under his arm.
“But Boston didn’t like it,” she protested.
“I’m not buying it for Boston. Little girls need toys, too.”
The dog’s return kept her from answering as he squeaked a relatively soft noisemaker inside a yellow wedge of cheese. Tim knelt on the floor to take the toy from Boston before redressing him in his guide dog gear and harness.
It fascinated Aspen to see the dog change from off-duty to on-duty. Neither yellow cheesy toy nor the ball recaptured his attention as Boston moved into position at Tim’s side. Aspen tried to put the alligator back on the shelf, but Tim reclaimed it.
“Don’t be naughty,” he warned.
“Sorry.”
At the cash register, Aspen set the dog treats down on the belt as Tim added the toys. She watched him complete the purchase and wondered at how he accomplished everything.
When the cashier pulled a treat from a large jar on the counter and held it up to her, Aspen held up her hand. “Tim, the cashier would like to know if Boston can have a T-R-E-A-T.” She spelled carefully to disguise the question.