Chez Stinky by Susan C. Daffron

fashion. The twin glares made Kat think of the old song, “If Looks Could Kill.” She guessed they’d been arguing the entire way out here.
    Cindy was obviously dressed to take on some serious dog walking. She wore old jeans and hiking shoes, along with an oversized green windbreaker with big pockets. Kat noticed that Linus had reappeared and was extremely interested in whatever Cindy had in her pockets. Cindy looked down at Linus and said, “Hey, Linus! Keep your hairy self out of my coat. You know the rules. No T-R-E-A-T-S unless I say so. Let’s go get everyone else.”
    As Cindy strode off toward the house, Kat hurried to follow her. She needed more information about the other animals, and Cindy obviously knew what was going on as far as the furry residents were concerned. Kat scuttled after her and the tip of her sandal caught on a rock. Once again, it was obvious that her wardrobe choices were not ideal for Alpine Grove living. She was the only one here who didn’t look like she’d just stepped out of an L.L. Bean catalog. The cute sandals on her feet were already looking ratty, and the dainty calico sundress and her fuzzy 3/4-sleeve cardigan would probably just end up covered in dust, dog hair, and who knew what else. It might be a good idea to stop by the Kmart along the highway on the way back to the motel; the Mart might have some appropriately rustic dog-friendly attire.
    Cindy marched over to a beat-up looking structure with a chain link enclosure attached to it. This was the outbuilding where Kat had had the brief encounter with the loud, spastic golden retriever the weekend before. Cindy went inside the door and the sound of frantic barking ensued from within. Apparently the dog was extremely happy to see the dog walker. Kat glanced around to see if everything was okay, but Joel and Larry were just standing around chatting; they looked unconcerned.
    The golden retriever leaped out of the entryway with Cindy in tow. Cindy was a 5-foot-10, large-boned woman, so she wasn’t exactly a delicate frail waif, but the golden had energy to spare. The dog walker looked a little distressed as she tried to hold the dog back and keep it from lunging and leaping all over Kat.
    Startled by the sudden canine onslaught, Kat jumped out of range. “Which dog is this?” she asked.
    “This is Tessa. We’re working on her leash manners.”
    “She certainly is happy,” Kat said in an attempt to look at the positive side of the situation, which seemed to be getting more out of control by the second.
    Tessa was spinning around on the end of the leash. Most of her feet seemed to be off the ground most of the time. As a cloud of dust arose around the whirling dog, Kat was reminded of the Tasmanian Devil in Saturday-morning cartoons.
    “Okay, let’s go, Tessa,” Cindy said. Tessa didn’t need much encouragement and launched off toward the forest.
    Kat hustled to catch up with the pair, who were marching swiftly toward a break in the trees. Cindy whistled and Linus reappeared, followed by Lori, the black-and-white dog that had given Kat the wet willy in the basement. The canines bounded toward Cindy and Kat, ears and tongues flopping in time with their strides.
    Now that Kat had (mostly) gotten over her fear of being toppled over by the gigantic dog, she was somewhat relieved to see Linus. He seemed like a nice, calm example for the golden to follow. However, undaunted by the presence of the other dogs, Tessa continued to haul Cindy toward the trees.
    “Tessa never gets tired,” Cindy said with a note of exasperation in her voice. “Never. I can’t believe the stamina of this dog. By the end of the walk, I’m completely wiped out, and Tessa is still like this. She’s always like this. I’m not sure if she ever sleeps.”
    Kat looked at Cindy and raised her eyebrows. “What should I do? You look like you’re in a lot better shape than I am. Couldn’t Tessa just run around like Linus and Lori?”
    “Not if you ever