Home of the Brave (Raine Stockton Dog Mysteries Book 9) by Donna Ball Page A

on energetically, “Now, we have five early registrations tonight who’ll be here in an hour, so let’s get on with it and then we’ll take a quick tour.  It’s gorgeous, really gorgeous.”  As she spoke, she handed out thick manila envelopes with names and cabin numbers written on them.  “Here are your tee shirts, your instructor badges, and the camp schedule, along with a list of the camp participants, their ages and dorm assignments, and their dogs.  Every participant will get a copy of camp rules, which are also included in your packet. Cell phones and other electronic devices will be collected at breakfast and may be claimed after dinner each evening, lights out at ten, pick up after your dog, the usual.  Remember, even though we want our campers to have fun, our primary goal is to promote a responsible, respectful relationship among all of God’s creatures—and that includes counselors and instructors.”
    There was some laughter, and Cisco sniffed enthusiastically at my orientation packet.  Apparently Margie had included dog treats—it was the kind of thing she customarily did—and I moved it out of his reach. He promptly sat back on his haunches and stared worshipfully at the envelope.  It would seem someone had taught him that sitting and staring was the fastest way to get a treat.  It wasn’t me, I swear.  I suspected Miles.
    “So no sass from the campers,” Margie went on.  “Remember, we treat these kids like we would our dogs—firm but fair, positive reinforcement, click treat!”  More laughter, and then Margie’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together in sudden remembrance.  “And good news!  The sheriff’s department called this afternoon to volunteer a demo by their new police dog on Saturday morning.  Apparently this guy is really something, a military vet, trained in munitions, search and take-down.  I can’t wait to see him myself!”
    As murmurs of appreciation went around the group, I muttered, “She.”  When Margie looked at me I explained uncomfortably, “The dog is a she.”
    Margie laughed.  “Even better!  So, this will mean pushing the Parade of Breeds back until after lunch, and the agility run-through and search demo will have to be cut short.  You can take care of that, right, Raine?”
    I smiled stiffly.  “No problem.”
    “Everyone make the adjustment on your schedule.  Now, a couple of special notes.  Angela Bowers is allergic to peanuts, bee stings and chemical by-products—whatever that is—so she’ll be wearing a red bracelet.  Just make sure she has her epi-pen, counselors, before she leaves the dorm each morning.  We have a couple of thunder-phobic pups …”
    I glanced back toward my car and saw Magic and Mischief with their noses pressed against the back window.  Melanie and Pepper were nowhere in sight and I started to get anxious until I spotted them coming up the hill from the lake. I waggled my fingers at her discreetly.  She waved back and started trotting toward me.  Cisco, noticing their approach, stood and swiveled his head toward them.  I tightened the leash just enough to remind him that I was still there.  He glanced at me, seemed to debate for a moment over his chances of securing a treat from the envelope, then compromised by sitting to watch Pepper and Melanie approach.
    “All right then,” said Margie, pushing up from the table, “let’s take a look around.  I really think you’re going to like …”
    Cisco stood excitedly to greet Melanie, and Pepper pulled at the leash as she galloped up the stairs toward her hero.  Melanie, flushed and sweaty with running, didn’t correct her, possibly because she was too out of breath.  I said sharply, “Cisco, sit,” which he did, even though Pepper grinned and nudged him and mouthed his ears.  I restrained myself from reaching for Pepper’s leash.
    Instead I said, “Everyone, this is my friend Melanie.”
    The others smiled and started to greet her,