Perps on Parade by Summer Prescott

Author:Summer Prescott [Prescott, Summer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Summer Prescott Books
Published: 2023-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Macy could hear the poodle barking the moment that she got out of her truck in the parking lot.

“Oh, that poor baby,” she murmured, hurrying inside. “What happened?” she asked Polly, shouting to be heard over the dog’s protests.

“No idea.” Polly shook her head. “We all tried to soothe her, but she wasn’t having it.”

“I’ll take some calming treats back there with me,” Macy said, heading straight for the treat cabinet.

She filled her pockets with the specially formulated treats and hoped that she could get the dog to calm down long enough to eat some of them. As she neared the enclosure, the dog showed her teeth and barked even louder, her body trembling.

“Oh sweetie, you’re trying to smile,” Macy said, recognizing the expression.

Her own dog had done that when she was feeling upset or frightened and wanted some human approval. Despite the escalation in frequency and volume of the barking, Macy moved closer and sat cross-legged in front of the chain-link door, her knees brushing up against the metal fencing. She started talking in a calm, soothing voice, her hand full of calming treats. When that didn’t work, she sang, very softly – a lullaby that she used to sing to her own poodle.

The dog quieted, and cocked her head to the side, her eyes wary. She had the perfect sitting posture that Macy knew was characteristic of the breed. Her coat might be matted, but she’d never surrender her dignity.

Macy continued singing and held out a treat, putting it through the fencing. The dog leaned forward, sniffing, but didn’t move. She’s interested!

Still singing softly, Macy stood. The dog held her ground, but didn’t bark.

“Macy, I don’t think it’s safe for you to go in there yet,” Polly whispered from the doorway.

Macy shook her head and kept going. She unlatched the gate. The dog didn’t move.

She walked in. The poodle’s eyes took in her every move, but she didn’t budge.

Macy lowered herself gently to the floor, still singing. She put the treat in front of her crossed legs, about a foot away. Macy stopped singing.

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

The dog uttered a heart wrenching whimper, then dropped down to her belly and low-crawled slowly toward the treat.

“That’s good, sweetie,” Macy said, barely able to speak past the lump in her throat.

The dog reached the treat. All she had to do was lower her head to the floor and she could eat it. But she didn’t. Instead, she continued creeping forward, belly to the ground, until she was mere inches from Macy.

Macy looked down. The dog gazed up at her with eyes that she would swear were moist. She held a treat in her hand and lowered it until it brushed against the poodle’s mouth.

“Please take it, baby girl,” she whispered, her heart breaking.

She held it there, her eyes locked with those of the battered and disheveled soul in front of her. Finally, just as Macy was

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