In the Dog House. V.M. Burns

murder as the rest of us. He was going to make arrangements to fly home, but I suggested he wait until we knew more details about the funeral arrangements. I wasn’t sure how long it would take the police to release the body, so there was no point in him coming back until we knew more. I promised to keep him informed as soon as I knew something.

      Dixie made grilled cheese sandwiches. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled them cooking. We sat and ate soup from a can and gooey grilled cheese after Stephanie left.

      “You wanna talk?” Dixie asked.

      I sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do.”

      The poodles had already eaten and were stretched out on the floor, all except Aggie, who was curled up in my lap.

      I looked down at the sleeping dogs and wished I could lie down and sleep with the same type of careless abandon. They didn’t worry where they would sleep tomorrow or pace the floor wondering if they would be able to afford any more kibble. “Why is their hair in those wrappers?”

      “I do it to protect their coat.” Dixie stared at the dogs. “Actually, I just finished their titles, so I could take the wrappers off and shave them down.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t decided whether I was going to go for their Grand Champion title or not, and there’s another specialty show in Nashville next month.”

      “I have no idea what you just said.”

      Dixie smiled. “I show my dogs in conformation. That’s where the dogs are judged on how well they measure up to the breed standard. It’s basically to determine if they would make good breeding stock. So, all dogs entered must be intact, not spayed or neutered, and are shown in full coat.”

      I must have looked puzzled because she continued. “Have you ever watched the Westminster Dog Show on television?”

      “Of course.”

      “That’s conformation.”

      “Okay. What other types of shows are there?”

      “Loads. There are performance events, like Obedience, where dogs demonstrate how well they can follow commands like heeling. There’s Agility, which is the obstacle course where dogs have to perform various activities like jumping, going through tunnels, or climbing a dog walk. Agility measures speed and accuracy, and then there’s Rally Obedience, which is kind of a combination of the two. Herding, Sled Dog Racing, Tracking…there are tons of other events I can’t even remember. There’s even Dancing.”

      “Dancing?” I raised an eyebrow. “You have got to be kidding me.”

      She laughed. “No, it’s wonderful. They call it Canine Freestyle.” She pulled her cell phone up. “You should Google it.” She typed and then made a few swipes and handed me her phone.

      I watched in stunned silence while a woman and her golden retriever performed to “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease. It was amazing watching the woman spin and turn while her dog pranced alongside. “That was amazing. Do you do that?”

      She smiled. “Honey, I can barely dance with Beau without stepping on his toes. I certainly couldn’t do anything like that.” She pointed to the phone. “But I am planning to try Obedience and possibly Agility when we’re done with Conformation.”

      “Can you do more than one at a time?”

      “Oh yes. Most of my friends at the East Tennessee Dog Club do lots of different things. It can take years to get a title, if at all.”

      I thought about what Dixie said and scratched Aggie behind the ears. “What do you think I should do with her?”

      She shrugged. “Whatever you want. I will say that Conformation will be challenging. You don’t have her AKC paperwork. There are other registries, like the United Kennel Club, that are a little easier to register with than the AKC, but I don’t think you would enjoy Conformation. I would recommend Obedience and maybe Agility. Those are fun. You can also do Canine Good Citizen and Therapy Dog. That’s a test you can take, and then your dog is certified and can go to nursing homes and hospitals.”

      “Sounds like something I’d like.”

      Dixie looked at me. “Now, are you ready to address the elephant in the room, or are we going to continue avoiding the subject of who shot your husband?” She tilted her head and looked at me.

      I scratched Aggie behind her ear and avoided eye contact. “I don’t know what to say.”

      “How are you feeling?” She reached across and grabbed one of my hands.

      “I don’t know. I feel cold. I don’t feel anything inside. My mind has gone through so many emotions in the past two days that I don’t know if I have anything left. I think I’ve depleted my supply.”

      She squeezed my hand. “You’ve had a lot of shock and gone through the gamut of emotions.”

      “I think I feel angry more than anything. He turned my life upside down and then he just dies and moves on, and now I have to figure out how to deal with this mess. When he was alive, I felt angry, but now I feel guilty for feeling angry, and then I feel bad.”

      “Honey, it’s okay. There are no right or wrong emotions. You feel how you feel.”

      “It’s like he drops a bomb and blows up everything and then dies and leaves me to figure out how to put the pieces back together. I don’t even know if I should go to the funeral. Technically, we’re still married. We were in the process of getting a divorce, but since it wasn’t finalized yet, I don’t know what my role is anymore.”

      “Your role is to take care of your children and yourself. Everything else will work itself out.” She squeezed my hand again.

      My cell phone rang. I took it out of my pocket and looked at the screen to read the name of the caller, then dropped the phone on the table when Albert’s picture appeared. Why was my dead husband calling me from the grave?