Recently, at Our Best Friends...

During a lull in the action, I'd excused myself to run the afternoon's mail back to the folks in the back of the building, leaving Maddie to watch the store. But when I made it back up front a matter of minutes later, she wasn't on the couch where I'd left her. I glanced behind the counter, looked in the office, and checked the beds before scrutinizing the very front of the store.



"Hey," called Maddie as I walked near the front door. "Do you wanna buy a book? We've got a bunch of good books, and we're making crazy deals." She'd stationed herself beneath the front sale table, comfortable on the We Eat Like Pigs welcome mat underneath. "You buy one book at full price, and you get the second one for free. Free! How could you resist a bargain like that? And we've even got a cool sign."



"It's only me, Maddie." I bent down to her level. "But that was a pretty good sales pitch. Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," she answered. "It's comfy. And it's hard to tell from just legs. But now that you mention it, I should have recognized your boots. They need polishing."

I shrugged. "Any customers while I was in back?"

"Just one. A police dog, Officer Rex. He dropped off a flyer." She yawned, then nodded toward the counter. "We got started talking, and I was telling him about your other job. He seemed real interested."

I scratched my chin, pensive. "Maddie, what did you tell Officer Rex that I do?"



"I said you were a bookmaker. Like I said, he seemed really interested-"

"Maddie."

"What?"

"I'm not a bookmaker."

"What, you make books, right? I mean, you do other stuff, too, but mostly you guys make books, right?"

"Well, sure, but that's not the right word. I'm an editor, for a book publisher. Not a 'bookmaker,' that's something else entirely."

"Oh," said Maddie, thoughtfully scratching an ear. "So what's a bookmaker do?"

"A bookmaker is a betting agent. They're also called 'bookies.' If somebody wants to gamble on, say, a horse race, they would place their bet with a bookie."

Switching ears, Maddie said, "My bad. But why was Officer Rex so interested then?"

"Because with a handful of exceptions, bookmaking is illegal." I thrust my hands into my pockets. "Oh, boy," I sighed, then sat down with my head in my hands. "Now I'm going to have to explain myself to a German Shepherd."

"That's okay," said Maddie. "I already took care of it."

"What'd you do?" I asked, mentally working on my alibi.

"Well, he said something about 'backup,' so when he was leaving, just as he was heading out the door, I got a hold of his back leg, kinda like this." She grabbed the cuff of my pants with her teeth, then stepped backwards, tugging.

In my head, I scratched out one alibi and started working on another. "Maddie--"

She let go of my cuff. "And then you know what I did next?"

I knew the answer couldn't be good. "What?"

"Once I had a good grip on his leg, he yelped, so I pulled it. I pulled it hard... Just like I'm pulling yours."



A moment passed. Maddie grinned up at me. "I really had you going, didn't I? Too bad I don't know any bookies, I'd have won big if I'd bet you'd buy that hook, line, and sinker."

I shook my head, relieved. "Okay, you got me."

Maddie chuckled. "That was funny. I'm funny. Maybe I should write a book."

"Would you give me one for free?"

"I'll make you a deal," said Maddie, "You buy the first one at full price, and I'll see what I can do for you."