Jericho made the turn while Bat bounded up, trying to look out the window. She didn’t like the car harness much because it kept her off the console where she liked to sit. Still, she seemed to sense something interesting was afoot and she was being good.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
With a turn of the wheel, Jericho parked in front of a neat, nicely landscaped, single-story house in Irvine, an Orange County city inland from Corona del Mar. Irvine was a planned community and this tract more than expressed that aesthetic, with rows of well-kept homes lining the sidewalks and grid-patterned streets. Not many cars on the street since it was Monday except for a few clustered in front of that address.
“Woof!”
“Yep, this is a new adventure.” He unfastened his seat belt, hooked a leash onto Batshit’s collar, and unhitched her from the car harness.
“Woof, woof, woof, woof.”
“Yes, yes, I get it. You’re excited.” He put a finger to his lips. “Shh. Here you have to be a good girl.”
Bat cocked her head and clearly understood every word he said, because she stopped barking and landed on his lap, ready to exit, the fluff on her huge ears tickling his chin.
He opened the door, and Batshit was on the ground before he could step out. Her ears pricked and she quivered with excitement. Bat did love new experiences. After closing the car door, they walked toward the house on a pathway.
“Over here, please.” The voice came from his left. Peering out from a gate on the side of the house was a pretty Asian woman.
“Ms. Takayama?”
She smiled. “Please call me Ichiko. You must be Mr. Jones.”
He grinned. “Please call me Jericho.”
“Jer-i-cho?”
“Uh, yes. It’s an old Biblical name.”
“I’ve never heard it before.” She spoke with a slight lilt that suggested she hadn’t been born in the US, but had lived there a long time. She looked down at the dancing Papillon at her feet. “Well, look at you. Aren’t you beautiful?” She knelt and extended a hand to Bat who licked her.
Jericho said, “She’s really friendly.”
Ichiko gave him a questioning expression. “She’s quite an extraordinary dog. I feel as if I’ve seen her before.”
“Yes, she’s a champion, I guess. She has pretty fancy papers. She’s Rosewell’s Marisol of Treadwell.”
“Of course.” She scratched Bat under her chin. “She vanished from the show circuit a while back. Did you stop showing her?”
Jericho shrugged. “It’s kind of a complicated story. The people who showed her previously went to jail and my friends ended up owning her. Uh, originally, they didn’t even know her name or what kind of dog she was. Anyway, someone from the local dog people called Finn, the guy who owns her, and asked him to start showing her again. He doesn’t have time and wants me to do it.” He snorted. “I made that story even more confusing than it is.”
“They went to jail?” She stood. Jericho towered over her.
“Yes. They were using Bat—I mean Marisol as bait to rob women.”
“That’s amazing.”
He nodded.
She said, “It’s odd. I never felt like she was a very happy dog. That’s why I didn’t recognize her immediately. Now she’s bright and full of sass. A totally different Papillon.”
“She sure is.” He chuckled.
“But you’re a novice handler showing a champion dog?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “I don’t think my friends are all that serious about the show thing. They love Bat and want her to have fun. I think they just asked me to do it to give me a new—” He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “—hobby.”
“You keep calling her Bat. Is that her pet name?”
He made a face. “Actually, when my friend first saw her, she was lost and acting really crazy. He thought she was batshit, and that’s what he called her.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No.”
Ichiko laughed. “Champion Batshit. I love it.” She opened the gate wider. “Come on back and we’ll see if we can’t impart some of the basics.”
In her big fenced backyard, three people walked dogs in a circle. There was a little fuzzy white one that looked like a snowball being led by a heavyset man, a dainty tiny greyhound with a woman probably in her mid-forties, and a golden retriever being handled by a young girl.
Ichiko said, “Everyone, this is Jericho and, uh, Marisol. Jericho is brand-new, so I’m going to spend a few minutes with him.” She turned to Jericho, looked down, and started to laugh.
Batshit was standing beside him in a position he’d never seen her take, with her four paws planted, a big distance between her back and front legs, and her head forward—just like he’d seen at Westminster.
Ichiko said, “Great show dogs never forget. That’s what we call free stacking, where a dog gets into her correct show position on her own. When you help by moving their legs, it’s called hand stacking.” Ichiko reached in her pocket and handed a tiny morsel of food to Bat who chomped it up.
Jericho said, “That’s funny. She’s usually so finicky about food. Even treats.”
“This isn’t just a treat. It’s a reward for a job well done. They love their rewards. They earn them. Okay, let’s work on gait, which is what the others are doing.” She gave Jericho a glance. “You’re such a big man, you won’t have to run to show her. Just walk fast.” She looked at his leash and collar decorated with skulls and barked a laugh. “You need a special leash. I’ll let you borrow one for today, but you should get one for practicing right away.”
She put a collar and leash combo that was all one thin unit on Batshit and then placed the lead in his left hand and gave him some dog treats in his right. “All right, let’s see how she does.”
Jericho took a breath and glanced uneasily at the others, who seemed to be gliding around the yard effortlessly, their dogs minding perfectly. Here’s where the falling over his feet part came in.
Chapter Four
Jericho walked forward and Batshit fell in beside him like she’d been born there, which was funny, because when he took her for potty walks, she chewed grass, smelled every bush, and barked at all the butterflies. This was clearly something different.
“Increase your speed a little, Jericho.” Ichiko waved a hand.
He sped up and Bat followed right along, tail curled over her back, head up, and a bounce in her step. He gave a little chuckle. This was fun. He almost felt like that word that Finn had used—graceful. Batshit seemed to be enjoying herself too.
“Excellent, Jericho. I’ve never seen Marisol having so much fun. Keep it up.”
A couple of the others stopped to watch him and a little spark of joy and pride warmed Jericho’s chest. I’m doing it. I’m doing it well.
Suddenly, the side gate opened, a flash of black-and-white fur raced into the yard, heading for Ichiko, barking at the top of its lungs, just as Jericho trotted past the gate. The little beast yipped and leaped to the side, Jericho swerved to miss it, tripped himself on Batshit’s leash, and tumbled straight to the ground in a heap of arms and legs.