Read Online The Silence of the Chihuahuas by Waverly Curtis - Free Book Online

what would we do without them?
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    Tips for Managing Humans
    â€¢ Behavior modification is the most effective way to train your human. I learned about it when Geri’s animal trainer boyfriend tried to use it to train me. It involves rewarding only behavior you like and ignoring behavior that displeases you. For instance, when your human says, “Do not eat the cat food!” just continue eating the cat food. (For some reason, manufacturers of food for pets seem to think cats deserve a richer, meatier diet than dogs. Does that make any sense? Cats do nothing but lie around in the sun all day and sleep, whereas dogs go for many walks and chase squeaky toys.)
    â€¢ Speaking of squeaky toys, you can train a human to toss one for you by dropping it at their feet. They will eventually realize that you want them to throw it for you. Bring it back to them if you want to continue the game. Sniff it and then walk away if you are tired of the game. Or pick it up and stash it somewhere out of reach of your human playmate.
    â€¢ I used behavior modification to train Felix. When he wanted me to do something, I ignored him. He finally gave up and now he devotes all his time to Fuzzy. Fuzzy is not the brightest penny in the fountain but Fuzzy is a good sidekick for a detective dog like me.
    â€¢ The best sidekicks are a bit dimwitted. Think Doctor Watson. I won’t say that’s why I chose Geri to be my partner but I will say this: if your sidekick is a bit slow, is always asking questions, and needs constant instruction, then your brilliance shines by comparison. Think Sherlock Holmes. Think Pepe Sullivan.

Chapter 7
    I headed back to Forest Glen after packing a few items in a suitcase—some clothes for me, some treats and his iPad for Pepe. I thought we might not be returning home for a while.
    We arrived at Forest Glen a few minutes before my scheduled appointment. I was pretty nervous. Pepe, on the other hand, seemed calm. But he immediately lifted his leg and peed on my Toyota’s right rear tire. I couldn’t tell whether he was just marking his “mobile territory” (as he called it when I first got him) or demonstrating his displeasure over our current circumstances.
    â€œMs. Sullivan!” said Justin as we walked in. He frowned when he saw Pepe trotting beside me. “Dr. Lieberman will be doing your assessment, but he’s running a bit late. That should give you plenty of time to fill out the necessary paperwork.”
    He handed me a clipboard with four or five forms attached to it. As I took it, I said, “I hope it’s OK that I brought my dog.”
    Justin tried to smile. “As long as he behaves,” he said.
    I figured I should start playing it up now that I was here, and told him, “Pepe says he will be muy bueno. ”
    â€œYour dog speaks to you?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œOf course,” he said, his bright smile returning like an expression he could paste on and off his face at will.
    â€œAre there any questions on these forms that my dog should answer?” I asked.
    â€œUh . . . I don’t think so,” he said, his smile staying in place this time. “But if there are any questions for your dog, I’m sure Dr. Lieberman will ask him. He’s very thorough.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œWell, have a seat.” He gestured toward a grouping of black leather chairs across the way. “I’ll call the doctor and let him know you’re here.”
    â€œThanks,” I said.
    I chose to sit in one of the Stress-less Recliners since I was feeling somewhat stressed. I wasn’t used to pretending that my dog spoke. I was used to pretending that my dog didn’t speak. But it had gone pretty well so far; I just had to calm down and get through the paperwork. Pepe, on the other hand, seemed surprisingly calm; just lay quietly on my lap, soaking up the sunshine that came through