“A lot of times, apparently,” he muttered.
I smacked the back of his head. “Do you want a ride somewhere, or should I leave your bratty ass here?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, that’d be great. I promised Rachel I’d come over. She’s stuck baby-sitting her nephews. They get rowdy.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” A defensive edge crept into his voice. My brother and I got along great most of the time. Our one point of contention had been Rachel.
Corey loved her. I didn’t doubt that. But that didn’t make their relationship healthy. He’d followed her to another town without a good plan for himself. He walked out of his last job to take her to a concert in Omaha whenhe couldn’t get the day off. When she called, he went running. And there was a thin line between love and obsession.
“Nothing,” I said, knowing better than to restart an old argument. “Let’s go.”
Corey grabbed his shoes, and I gathered my phone, wallet, and keys. After dropping him at Rachel’s place, I drove over to Beaver Hole Park. The section designated for the dog park was toward the back. There was a small collection of trees and a pond, but most of it was open grassland designed for dogs to run and play off-leash.
I carried Bruno under one arm and a box of paperwork with the other: donation forms, vendor applications, and general information about our timeline for the festival.
I went back to the spot where I’d met Jamie—because it had the best shade for a bright sunny August afternoon. I set the box of paperwork on the bench where we’d shared snacks, then put Bruno on the ground and unleashed him.
He took off like a shot, yipping happily. I watched to make sure he didn’t stir up any aggression in the larger mastiff he was barreling toward. Mastiffs could be protective of their owners, but this guy seemed calm enough.
The mastiff looked down at Bruno, his wrinkled face giving the illusion that he was puzzled by the little dog dancing around his legs.
He woofed once, low but gentle, and picked up a rawhide bone, flinging it into the air. Bruno raced after it. The mastiff didn’t appear to mind sharing, so I turned my attention to Dogtober planning.
A small crowd of volunteers joined me one by one, some with their dogs. I waited until five past three, to give stragglers a chance to arrive, then launched into my speech.
“Hey, everyone. Thanks for meeting me here. I thought itfitting, since this is where we’ll be setting up our very first Dogtober Days Festival.”
There were a couple of encouraging whoops and a smattering of applause. I chuckled. The volunteers gathered had a vested interest in the event.
Pam Drake, owner of the rival grooming company Pampered Paws, stood right up front with a white bichon frise in her arms. The man beside her, Rick Jackson, ran a small Kennel Club, which organized a dog show for the county each year. His black-and-white speckled English setter was gorgeous where it sat by his feet. Kelly Hoffman stood next to him. She was the best obedience trainer in the state. Word was, she owned about five German shepherds, but none had come to the meeting today.
Sherlee Williams, director of the Elkhorn County animal shelter based in Riverton, stood toward the back. Granville had a small rescue, but we relied heavily on the county shelter to take our overflow.
There were a few other folks I didn’t know as well. Some just enthusiastic pet owners. Some kept their pets on leashes, and others let them run loose like Bruno.
“Sammi is celebrating her wife’s birthday today, so you’re stuck with me,” I admitted.
“Ah, but you’ll do great!” Kelly called out.
I smiled. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. The only one, apparently.”
The crowd laughed. “You’ve got my vote too,” Rick called.
I pretended to wipe away sweat. “Whew! Tough crowd. So, we’ve already done some work on the festival, but we need more help. I’ve got sponsorship forms, volunteer forms, and vendor applications with me.” I pulled out a stand and began handing them out to the group of about fifteen in attendance. “Please fill out whatever applies to you and take a fewextra for your friends. We’re going to have to get out there and recruit more if we want this event to be as big as we planned.”
“I’ll put out some calls in Riverton,” Sherlee volunteered.
“I can make some calls here in town,” Rick added. “I’ve got a lot of contacts through the kennel circuit.”
“That would be great,” I said. “We especially need to get plenty of vendors nailed down because?—”
A sharp bark cut across my words. It was a happy sound, so I wasn’t worried.
“Tramp, no!”
I turned just in time to watch a Lab leap over the bench, his hind foot catching the edge of my box and sending it flying.
