Read Online Walking the Dog by Elizabeth Swados - Free Book Online

”
    â€œShoot,” I said, praying to God he wasn’t going to hit on me.
    He was already uncomfortable. “You could’ve bought yourself out of this shit parole. I mean, expensive shrink, ankle bracelets at home uptown. Maybe find some classier job. Why’re you playin’ the low-class routine?” His whole head turned beet red. “That was a joke.” He coughed.
    â€œYou don’t get it, Joe. This is exactly where I had to end up.No one’s about to give me a thing. And if I hung out with any of my old world, I’d be a pet—a sightseeing tour. I’ve been on this side longer than the other. I don’t want to be anybody’s piece of art anymore.”
    â€œWell, someone’s looking for you,” Joe teased. I froze.
    â€œYeah, some business type called here. We’re checking him out.”
    â€œI can’t imagine who it is,” I replied.
    Joe sighed. He only half believed me.
    â€œWell, next week then. Don’t self-destruct, Carleen. I’m not sure, but I think you got something worth saving inside. Don’t break one rule. And go to those fucking meetings.”
    â€œYes, your highness,” I answered.
    â€œMaybe you’ll draw me a picture sometime,” he joked.
    â€œNo, never,” I answered truthfully. “I’ll train your chow.”
    I paused.
    â€œListen, Joe,” I looked back. “Write a letter to family court. Tell them you’re my parole officer and you think I got screwed.”
    Joe shrugged. “As if it could make any difference at this stage.”

A PARTY WITH POOKIE
    Ralph and Evan decided they should cook a dinner in honor of my continuing success with Pookie, the poodle shark. They had complimented each other’s “gourmet expertise” innumerable times, and insisted they conjure up food for me that would be “healthy and delectable.” I didn’t want to go. I desperately didn’t want to go.
    â€œWear a black shift,” Tina told me. “Gay men love moody, mysterious women.” My stomach was tight as a fist when we went to Ann Taylor to purchase the costume. It’s hard to clothe women my size. The laundry sisters at Clayton were always cursing me about it. But Tina and I found a black fake-silk garment that was supposed to be floor-length, but came to my calves. I had black flats to replace my sneakers.
    Roger and Evan’s town house was weird at night. The antique lamps, tables, sofas, and portraits took on faces in the dim light and made me antsy. I was relieved to see Pookie, who walked calmly to me and sat—as I had taught her—and then bounded, leapt, and licked me all over when I gave her a treat. We’re working on calmer reactions.
    Dinner was unbearable. The table was set with an old cloth like from Arsenic and Old Lace . The china had ugly purple intertwining flowers painted on it. There was actually a candelabra,and the thing that really scared me was that there were forks and spoons of different sizes laid out next to each other, which meant there’d be a bunch of unrecognizable courses. I sweat with anxiety. Evan was in the large kitchen singing while he cooked and this creeped me out, too. I sat on one of the velvet sofas and Pookie lay at my feet. Ralph was dressed in a T-shirt and creased navy jeans. His sneakers were brand-new white.
    â€œYou look ravishing, Carleen,” he said. “Like the Russian poetess Anna Akhmatova. May I offer you a drink?”
    Yes, a bottle of bourbon.
    â€œNo,” I replied. At that time I only communicated with humans using three or four words at a time. Unless I was working or explaining a technique, I preferred monosyllables. To frame coherent sentences outside of the halfway house that didn’t have to do with dog training was excruciating.
    â€œCome look, Evan. She’s stunning,” Ralph said. Evan peeked his head out of the sour-smelling kitchen.
    â€œShe