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Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

Titel: Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)
Autoren: Laurien Berenson
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1

    Champions Dog Food Company
1066 Industrial Avenue
Norwalk, CT 06855

    Dear Melanie Travis:
Congratulations!

    We are delighted to inform you that your Standard Poodle, Champion Cedar Crest Leap of Faith, has been selected as a finalist in our “All Dogs Are Champions” contest. The winner will be named the official spokesdog for our new dog food, Chow Down, and will be awarded an exclusive advertising contract in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. The essay and pictures you submitted on your Poodle’s behalf were very persuasive; we quite agree that Faith would make a superb representative for our product.

    Being chosen from among the thousands of entries we received is both an honor and an achievement. As outlined in the contest rules on the entry form you submitted, each of the five remaining candidates must now make themselves available to compete in the final phases of the selection process. We appreciate your cooperation in this matter, and a representative from Champions Dog Food will be contacting you shortly so that arrangements can be made for a personal interview with Faith at your earliest convenience. Thank you for your interest in Chow Down dog food and, once again, our heartiest congratulations on being chosen as one of our finalists.

    Sincerely,

    Doug Allen
Vice President of Marketing
Contest Chairman

    H uh? I thought.
    Not the most scintillating response, but hey, it was early. I’m never at my best before my first cup of coffee.
    I stared at the letter in my hands, hoping that a second reading might help my comprehension. It didn’t.
    Chow Down dog food? I’d never even heard of it. And I certainly hadn’t entered Faith in any contests, much less submitted an essay and photos. The Poodle in question was one of five—all big black Standards—currently snoozing on my kitchen floor.
    Faith was highly intelligent but I’d never seen her compose a letter or lick a stamp. And why would she have wanted to enter a contest? Fame? Fortune? She already had all the dog biscuits she could eat.
    That brief flight of fancy was enough to send me straight to the coffee maker on the counter for what was obviously a much-needed jolt of caffeine. Summer mornings, I grab the chance to sleep late whenever I can. During the other, more productive, nine months of the year I teach at a private school in Greenwich, Connecticut. From the moment my alarm goes off at six thirty, I’m up and running. So by the time June arrives each year, I’m ready for a break and the unaccustomed luxury of a little laziness.
    Sam and Davey, my husband and eight-year-old son, respectively, had risen at least an hour earlier. Over dinner the night before, there’d been talk of building a tree house in the backyard. That had led to plans for an early-morning visit to Home Depot to purchase supplies.
    Sam had gotten up, let the dogs out, and started the coffee. Davey had brought in the mail and left it sitting on the counter. By the time I’d made my way downstairs at eight thirty, both had disappeared. Only the five Poodles—Sam’s and my recently blended canine families—remained.
    Faith lifted her head as I navigated my way through the obstacle course of Poodle bodies. Her dark eyes watched me with avid interest. We’d been together for four years, and our bond went far beyond that of master and pet. Faith knew my strengths and exploited my weaknesses. She read my thoughts and anticipated my moods.
    Right now, she knew I needed coffee. If she’d possessed opposable thumbs, she probably would have already poured me a cup.
    As it was, I had to perform that task for myself. I added a splash of milk to the mug, carried it over to the back door, and walked outside onto the deck. We’d been in our new house less than a month and I was still getting used to the unfamiliar surroundings. Having a deck to enjoy was only one positive change of many.
    I sat down on a chaise, drew up my legs underneath me, and breathed in deeply. Later the day would be hot, but now the dew had yet to burn off and the morning air was fresh and cool. It smelled of honeysuckle and roses; both bushes grew wild over the fence that enclosed the large expanse of our new backyard.
    I had left the screen door open. One by one, the Poodles picked themselves up and followed me outside as I’d known they would.
    Faith had been part of my family since she was a puppy. So had her daughter, Eve, born two years earlier in a whelping box next to my
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