Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I tell Mouse to sit.
Mouse sits.
I click and then treat him.
Unfortunately, not everyone has such an easy time catching on—either that, or they’re feigning confusion in exchange for an extra minute or two of Adam’s time. Chihuahua girl, who I learned is named Beth, seems to have never heard of the concept of positive reinforcement in her entire life.
“So I click it before or after she does the trick?” she asks for the tenth time.
Adam nods patiently. “Always after. We’re trying to connect the behavior to the sound of the click, and the click to the treat.”
“Oooooh, I think I get it now!”
She doesn’t.
Adam has to help her for ten more minutes. Meanwhile, Mouse and I are practicing our sitting—well, he’s the one doing the sitting, but I’m asking him to do so, and he’s doing an excellent job at it. The clicker seems to hold his attention, and he enjoys getting rewarded for the behavior. Best of all, he’s not trying to tug on the leash and run for another dog. He seems to be content with training, and Adam takes notice.
“You’re doing really well,” he says when he has the time to stroll over to my corner of the gymnasium. I smile and tell Mouse to sit.
For once, he listens right when I need him to.
I click and treat.
“You can take the clicker with you on your walks with him,” he points out. “Every time he looks up at you while he’s by your side, click and treat. It’ll encourage him to keep his attention on you instead of on squirrels or pedestrians who happen to catch his eye.”
I beam. “Genius! I’m definitely trying that.”
He nods and turns to head for another student, but I strike up a conversation first.
“You know, it’s funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the puppy training kind of guy.”
He runs a hand through his hair and smiles. “Honestly, I’m not. Apparently my predecessor at the clinic set this class up, and since there were a few students who’d already signed up, I didn’t want to cancel the class. I guess it’s a good way to drum up business.”
I nod. “Well you’re doing a good job.”
His brows rise at my compliment. “Thanks.”
And then I decide that if we’re going to be friends, I can tell him the truth. “By the way, half the people in this class only signed up because they saw your face on the flyer.”
I swear he blushes then. His green gaze meets the ground and he shakes his head, a rosy tinge coloring his cheeks. Adam the Vet saves puppies for a living and he blushes? Daisy is going to have a field day.
“I figured something was up. I’ve already been asked for my number four times.”
“No way!” These women are ballsier than I thought.
He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just the new guy in town.”
“Mhm, I bet you didn’t get any attention at all back in Chicago.”
He frowns like I’ve just said something to annoy him.
“It was just a joke.” My turn to shrug.
He shakes his head. “Yeah, I just…for a second there, I forgot you knew I lived in Chicago. I should probably go help out some other students.”
“Right. Yeah,” I say, because nothing better comes to mind. Just when I think he and I are moving in the right direction, we careen into awkward, murky territory. I’ve never had this problem with a man before, and I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m back in middle school, trying to impress the popular boy.
The remainder of class passes faster than I thought possible as Adam walks us through a few more basics of the clicker and explains how the class will run. At the end of the six weeks, our puppies will go through a training test, and if they pass, we’ll be given a paper diploma we can show everyone in our life that cares to see it—i.e. no one. Still, I want that diploma.
I successfully avoided Lori the entire 60 minutes, but I can’t help but seek her out as we’re packing up. Her Pomeranian is splayed out on the floor, panting and exhausted from the class. Mouse, by comparison, could still run a marathon without batting an eyelash. Lori doesn’t seem to realize how tired her dog is, though; she’s busy schmoozing Adam and slightly dragging the limp creature along the gym floor. I can’t hear her, but I can see that she’s ass-deep into her Five Ss. She smiles, bats her eyelashes, and then reaches out to touch his arm. I sneer.
It’s bad, but it gets worse when I see her withdraw a business card from her massive Louis Vuitton purse. She nods and presses the card into his hand, and I’m sure the color is completely drained from my face. My hands turn to fists at my side and I’m seconds away from drawing blood. Is she seriously trying to take him on as a client right now? Here? And then I’m horrified because the answer is obvious: Lori being in the puppy training class wasn’t a coincidence. With Lori, it never is. She must have heard Adam’s renting and run to unhook her dog from life support for one last training class. All just so they could meet “organically” and she could start “essing” all over him. What a diabolical asshole.