Finally, with great reluctance, the pony took the treat politely.
“See?” He patted the little animal on the neck. “It pays not to be such a crab ass.”
Ethan cleaned up the feed room, swept the floor and put away the veterinary supplies before going back outside into the sunshine, then called the dogs to the far corral he’d fenced for obedience and agility work. Whenever he knew he’d be gone most of the day, he made sure to give them some dedicated exercise before he left.
The training area had once been a horse paddock, a feature that had been the deciding factor when he purchased the property four years ago. Half of the enclosure was open, half was covered, with one wall that protected the area from the prevailing winter winds.
“Good boys, good boys,” he crooned, tossing them each a tug toy and hauling them around for a few minutes. Eventually they began tugging with each other, and then it devolved into a wrestling-chasing-running-for-the-hell-of-it it free-for-all.
Suddenly they stopped playing and, as one, lifted their heads. Ashur let out a low growl, his hackles up. The other two ran to the fence, barking frantically.
A bear, probably. This far out of town, there were always a few wandering around, making a nuisance of themselves.
“Enough!”
He called the dogs and, with great reluctance, Ashur and Mars left the fence line, muttering and growling deep in their throats. Gun, however, was beside himself, snarling and throwing himself at the rails, smart enough not to pursue, but too dumb to know that a bear might pre-empt him.
“Gun! Here!”
Ethan used his most authoritative voice and this time got the dog’s attention. Gun’s tail went down and he slunk, still rumbling his concern, to join his companions.
He definitely needed more work.
On the way back to the house, Mars lifted his head, then let out a woof. Instantly the other dogs joined in and ran over to the driveway. A moment later, Ethan heard the crunch of tires on gravel, and then, a van appeared.
The logo on the side read Animal Control.
“Dogs, here,” he shouted. “Come!”
They returned to his side reluctantly, always ready to make new friends and curious about another visitor so soon after yesterday.
This, however, wasn’t likely to be a social call.
“Good morning,” said Ethan, striding toward the van.
A man dressed in coveralls stepped out of the van, holding a clipboard against his chest. He glanced around him, a worried frown on his homely face. The name embroidered underneath the municipal logo identified him as Melvin.
“Mr. Ethan Nash?” he said, peering out from behind the open van door.
“That’s me,” said Ethan. He walked forward and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. Melvin, is it?”
Ethan knew exactly where this was going, but he wasn’t about to make it easy on the man.
“Uh, yeah,” said Melvin, stepping out to return the handshake. “Likewise.”
Again, he scanned the yard.
“If you’re looking for my dogs, Melvin,” said Ethan, pointing, “they’re over there. They’d love to meet you but some people find them a little intimidating, so I told them to wait.”
Melvin’s eyes widened. He looked down at his clipboard.
“We had, uh, a complaint.” He unclipped a piece of paper and handed it to Ethan. “About the dogs.”
“My dogs?” Ethan allowed incredulity to fill his voice. “Those three over there?”
“Roaming at large.” Melvin sounded like he had a golf ball stuck in his throat. “In a public area.”
“That’s odd,” said Ethan, crossing his arms and keeping his gaze on the other man. “My property is fully fenced, as you see. And my dogs never leave it without me.”
“Sorry, man. I’m just the messenger. It seems there was some concern about the safety of children.”
Blondie-Amanda. It had to be.
Ethan looked over to where the trio of canines waited expectantly.
“Those clowns? They love children. Come here, boys,” he called.
Melvin jumped back, but Ethan caught him by the arm. “Come on, these guys are big teddy bears. You’ll love them. You do like dogs, right?”