Dog Tags

CHAPTER 37

IT PAINS ME TO DO IT, BUT I TURN OFF THE METS GAME. It’s in the fourth inning of a scoreless game, but it’s time for one of the “trust sessions” that I’ve been doing with Milo every night. Juliet Corsinita told me I should try to hold them as close to the same time as possible, and even though I don’t have a clue why that would be important, I’m following her advice.

She also told me not to have a television on, and to limit the distractions. The only thing I wouldn’t go along with is her suggestion to keep Tara out of the room. As the song sort of goes, “If being with Tara is wrong, I don’t want to be right.”

Trust sessions with dogs are different than I imagine they would be with people. There is no endless and cloying talk about “feelings,” and nobody is falling backward, counting on the other party to catch them before they hit the ground. Instead it’s all about basic commands and consistency.

I have never been a practitioner of commands with dogs. In my mind it seems demeaning to the dog to force him to obey commands or do tricks. Even the “sit” and “come” orders irritate me; if somebody tried to get me to do that stuff I’d be pissed and would refuse.

Unless, of course, it was Laurie doing the commanding, or Marcus.

But with Milo I have to make an exception, since Juliet and Billy agree that trust will be the key if we’re to have a chance of getting Milo to lead us to the envelope.

So Milo takes his position on the floor, me standing beside him. Tara reclines on the couch, watching the action. Occasionally she looks around, maybe for a biscuit vendor, but mostly she just enjoys the show.

“Sit, Milo, sit!” I say, followed by “Good boy!” when he performs the task. Unfortunately, I’m forced to say this and all other praising comments in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice that Juliet says will somehow remind him of his time in the womb.

I am supposed to ask minor, easy things of him, like sitting, coming to me, and walking obediently on a leash.

Once he does these things, which he’s smart enough to do in his sleep, I’ve been told to reward him with these special treats, which Billy said he loves. I’ve been stuffing him with so many treats that he’s going to be too fat to lead us anywhere.

The one who’s enjoying this process the most is Tara on the couch. Since I can’t give treats to Milo without giving them to her, she’s got it made. She’s sucking down the treats without having to do anything to earn them. If I know Tara, when I’m not around she’s counseling Milo against finding the envelope, since that would effectively shut off the treat faucet.

I occasionally interrupt the sessions to go over and pet Tara. I’m concerned that she might be jealous of the personal attention I’m giving Milo. Tara and I have never had similar sessions, and I don’t want her to think I prefer him.

She doesn’t let on whether or not she’s feeling any resentment, probably because she fears that if I realize she isn’t jealous, I might cancel the biscuit parade.

As we’re nearing the end, Laurie comes in and watches with a bemused expression. “You know. I don’t completely trust you, either.”

“Is that right?” I ask. “Anything I can do to change that?”

She nods. “I’m thinking chocolate-covered strawberries.”

I have no idea if any of this stuff with Milo is working, since Juliet has instructed me to wait a good while before trying to get him to find the envelope. But I don’t really mind, since I’d rather hang out with dogs than people anyway.

Milo and Tara are better company than Pete and Vince, and I don’t have to buy the beer.

When the session ends, I quickly turn on the Mets game. While I’ve been gone the Braves have taken a six-run lead.

Can’t trust those Mets.