A Christmas Home: A Novel (12 page)

ON THURSDAY
afternoon, after Todd exercised the last dog, he took a break from his shelter duties to gas up his truck. While he was filling up he called Ed Lee and confirmed his interview time. He checked his messages and saw that Brenda had called again. Todd called her back. She had some ideas she needed to investigate further and wanted to know a good time when she might get back to him and Hayley, perhaps in a joint phone call. Todd switched to his calendar function and they agreed that the perfect time for her to call the shelter would be during Friday’s staff meeting. Brenda gave Todd a hopeful hint: “I’m getting excited about this idea. I’ve just got to convince some people to help us out.”

“You’re the Problem Solver.”

On Friday morning Laura and Todd crowded around Hayley’s desk for their weekly staff meeting. This time the agenda was not about dog food or heartworm updates. They were trying desperately to formulate strategies to save their existing pet population and address the future needs of a county that would soon have no animal shelter. They had each committed to show up at the meeting with an idea or two. For his part, Todd told them that he had enlisted the Problem Solver, but they were going to have to wait awhile before they could talk to her. “She has to stay late working on the evening news, so I don’t think she gets up this early.”

Hayley floated her idea next. She suggested that they might donate their cages and other fixtures to another like-minded shelter. In exchange for giving them their equipment, they might ask to transfer four or five dogs and cats to the other facility. Hearing no objections, she agreed to make some inquiries.

Laura passed along the gist of her most recent discussion with Hank Fisher. “He told me that he was talking to his lawyer and the mayor to see if there are options for converting our shelter into a private not-for-profit corporation.”

Doc Pelot was older, but his memory was vivid and crisp. “Hank and I talked about this idea of his years ago—before the county and the city took on the shelter partnership. It would require raising donations, which won’t be easy these days.”

Laura agreed. “That’s right, but Hank thinks that someday Crossing Trails could have a scaled-back facility without
the county’s help. He told me to pass along that he is feeling much better. He hopes that over the coming days he will get his strength back and be able to pursue these ideas further. He also said”—Laura tried to mimic the old man’s deep gruff voice—“Tell them to take good care of my dogs!”

“You tell him to worry about his own health, and that my dogs and cats are doing just fine.” Doc Pelot lit his pipe and got back to his major worry. “I had an idea of my own. What if we contacted the chamber of commerce and got every member to sponsor one dog or cat? They could take one of our pets during the day and show him off, sending out e-mails to their customers. Again, it’s a way to get our pets out into the limelight so they can strut their stuff.”

The others were impressed by the old vet’s marketing savvy. Hayley encouraged him to pursue it. “Sounds great. Can you do it?”

“Honey, I’m not too old to pick up the phone.”

Todd checked his watch. “We need to call Brenda.”

Hayley put her desk phone on speaker and dialed the number of the TV station.

After introductions were exchanged, Brenda got to her forte: problem solving. “I am so sorry to hear about the shelter, but I’ve been working on an idea that just might work. It’s not an original idea, but I saw a story from one of our affiliates in Minnesota, and it occurred to me that we might be able to pull off something similar here. According to my research, only twenty percent of pets are acquired from shelters.…”

Hayley confirmed her research. “That’s right. It’s a problem for us. People convince themselves that they have to have a very specific breed of dog, so they go to breeders or they make an impulse purchase from a pet store.”

“So, imagine this.… What if I could get you space in one of the busiest malls in the Midwest, for one afternoon only, to market your pets to thousands of shoppers?”

Laura bit. “That would beat the heck out of waiting for them to somehow come to us, but how could you do that?”

“To start with, I went to our news director and dug through hundreds of press releases. It wasn’t hard to find one from the Mall of the Prairie. They would love for us to do a story on their Santa, their reindeer, and their giant tree. We won’t though, because it’s not that newsworthy. So I called Joan, the mall’s publicity director, and shared with her an idea that just might make the Mall of the Prairie’s holiday event newsworthy. The mall management might be able to make some prime space available for an afternoon at no charge. Of course, they’re gambling that furry warm puppies and kittens might be an even better draw than an old man in a red suit.”

Hayley was starting to see where this was going. “When is the event?”

“That’s the hard part. It’s on Sunday.”

Laura’s jaw dropped. “You mean this Sunday—in three days!”

“That’s right. If you’re interested, I’ll let Joan know and she’ll call you to make the arrangements.”

Doc Pelot didn’t care if they needed to be ready in three hours. “Tell her to call. We’re in!”

“I can’t do a story on just your shelter, but I can do something on all the shelters in the area and focus on your event at the mall as the backdrop. It’ll get you a little attention.”

“That’s good! We’ll take it.” Todd looked at his fellow workers, hoping they too were pleased.

They broke up the meeting feeling a little less overwhelmed. Todd was relieved that everyone had liked Brenda’s idea, but during the entire meeting he found his mind wandering to his date night with Laura. Before she left the shelter, Todd took her aside to discuss her choice of restaurant. “Do you think instead of Dutch food, we could have pizza?”

Laura laughed. “Todd, Dutch treat means we each pay for our own; it’s not a kind of food.”

As Todd got more comfortable in his relationship with Laura, he became less embarrassed by his miscues and took them in stride. He thought about it for a minute and said, “Oh, I didn’t know that. Can we still do pizza?”

Laura hugged him gently. “Of course. Pepperoni?”

“I’ll see you later.”

With their feet resting on a pet crate that was serving as a de facto coffee table in Todd’s cabin, Laura and Todd
finished off a large extra-cheese, extra-pepperoni pizza and an order of breadsticks. They leaned back, ready to burst, and Todd used the remote to start a dog-training video that had arrived the day before. The opening segment showed a professional trainer working with dogs and the human partners they were soon to be paired with. Each canine and human team was working together to perform a variety of tasks. The narrator explained, “The Heartland School for Dogs is a not-for-profit organization that provides guide, social, and service dogs to hundreds of deserving individuals in over thirty-four different states.” The camera then cut to a shot of a dog helping a man in a wheelchair change his shirt. The dog grabbed the cuff of the sleeve in his mouth and gently pulled.

Todd had become a big fan of the Heartland School for Dogs and had made more than a few calls to Julie Bradshaw, the head trainer and expert dog handler featured in the videos.
Shy
was not a tag anyone ever tried to hang on Todd. When he hit a training plateau with Gracie, he would just pick up the phone and describe the problem to his new friend Julie, who seemed to enjoy helping him and hearing all about Gracie and Laura’s unfolding partnership.

The more time she spent with Todd, the more Laura found herself being drawn to some of his clothing choices. She had taken to wearing black Converse tennis shoes. In contrast to her always crisp nursing uniforms, she was already inclined toward tattered and ripped blue jeans. For date night she decided to wear the Pet-a-thon T-shirt Todd
had given her. He had received the shirt in exchange for a twenty-five-dollar donation. When she wore it the first time, he had commented, “You sure look a lot better in that than I would.”

Resting on his haunches, with Todd’s left arm draped around him, was Christmas—also alertly following the dog-training action on the screen. Striking a similar position, nested under Laura’s right arm, was an equally enthralled Gracie. Class was in session. All four sets of eyes were mesmerized by the skills they were witnessing.

About fifteen minutes into the video, Todd was ready for a break. He paused the video and looked at the white retriever. He said her name in a firm way to signal that he was about to ask her to execute a command. “Gracie.” After he was sure he had the dog’s attention, he started a complex series of commands that had taken him two months of Friday afternoons to perfect. “Refrigerator!”

Even though he thought he was doing everything just like in the Heartland video, for the first month he had gotten nowhere. Todd had e-mailed Julie Bradshaw a video, and she could tell right away what he was doing wrong with Gracie.

“Todd, you can’t combine that many steps,” Julie had told him. “You have to break it down and teach her one step at a time. Each step has to be broken down further, too.”

Gracie stood in front of the refrigerator waiting for the next command and Todd issued it: “Tug!”

There was an old towel tied to the handle of the
refrigerator door. Gracie grabbed it and pulled the door open. Tugging had started out being a game and then, slowly over a few weeks, Todd was able to move the tugging toy (a towel with knots in it) onto the object that he wanted her to open. Because of the suction, the door on the old refrigerator was difficult to open. In the beginning, he had had to open it for her and repeatedly praise her. Now she confidently gave it a sufficient yank on her own.

Todd issued the next command: “Dr Pepper.” Gracie then reached in and gently removed a plastic bottle of soda, holding it near the top where the bottle was narrower. According to Julie, the ability to handle objects gently is one reason that retrievers often make such great service dogs. She told Todd, “Retrievers have very soft mouths. They can pick up a piece of paper without wrinkling it or even staining it with saliva.”

“Close the door!” Todd commanded. Gracie positioned herself on the other side of the door and used her front paws to push the door closed. This move was also anything but easy to execute. Todd had had to break it down into several steps and make a game of jumping up on the wall and then expanding the jumping command to include cabinet doors, bathroom doors, kitchen drawers, and, ultimately, the refrigerator door.

“Fetch, Gracie!” Gracie brought the plastic bottle to Todd and gently released it to Todd’s control. Todd profusely and excitedly praised Gracie and then fed her one of the small training treats.

Several months earlier, when Gracie had successfully completed “refrigerator retrieval,” Todd had made a video of the whole process and e-mailed it to Julie. She had e-mailed him back: “A+ work to you and Gracie!”

Although they had never met in person, Julie and Todd enjoyed sharing dog-training stories. Julie was curious about Gracie and Laura’s unfolding partnership, and Todd was more than willing to keep her posted. After a few exchanges of videos and e-mails, Julie knew that Todd had limitations, but at the same time it was obvious to her that he had an instinctive talent for dog training that could not be taught.

Todd printed out the e-mail from Julie Bradshaw and showed it to Laura. Although she was fully capable of getting her own soda, and rarely asked Gracie to do such things for her, she nonetheless appreciated Todd’s carefully choreographed training exercise. She realized that for the wheelchair- or bed-bound individual, these skills were at the very core of what service dogs must learn to do.

Todd handed Laura her Dr Pepper and hit “Play” on the remote. Todd was impressed by Julie and her dogs and put words to what he expected his own dog must be feeling: “I know; you’re good too, Christmas!” He then pulled the Lab closer. “You’re fantastic.”

Ten minutes later the Heartland School training video came to an end. Using the remote, Todd turned off the television and asked Laura, “Did you like it?”