Carpe DiEmily (A Romantic Comedy Adventure)

fourteen

A week later, Akio Kudo called and said AW was ready for pickup. Emily was both excited and filled with apprehension. She couldn’t wait to see the new and improved dog promised to her, but what if AW hadn’t changed? What if he was still the barking, snarling, jumping, bottom-wiping, out-of-control maniac she’d dropped off at the trainer’s? What if he was incurable?

Then what?

She didn’t want to get rid of AW. She’d grown to miss him, and realized she actually wanted him in her life. But what if he was still impossible to live with? She couldn’t risk losing her beloved apartment—her one familiar haven in a chaotic world.

As she drove the long expanse of freeway between her house and Venice, she remembered what Tyler had said about the trainer, Akio Kudo: “He works with the top celebrity dogs in the world. He even trains them for the movies. And he guarantees every dog.” That somewhat eased her mind. If anyone could fix AW, it was Akio Kudo. She was paying top dollar for the guy, so he had to be the best.

She pulled up in front of Akio Kudo’s small bungalow situated on a quiet residential street near the beach. The first time she’d been to the nondescript house, she’d been surprised that a celebrity dog trainer lived there. Tyler assured her that in Venice, anything goes and things aren’t always what they seem. He said the shacks on that street were valued in the millions. Emily hadn’t believed it until Tyler pointed out Sammy “Guillotine” Lee, international action star, watering his petunias next door. She recognized him from all the bad martial arts movies she’d endured with Lenny, and wondered if Mr. Lee’s lips moved out of sync with his voice in real life, too.

Emily walked up the path to the front door. The trainer’s shingle read the same as his business cards: “Akio Kudo: Concierge Trainer to the Stars,” and below it dangled another shingle signed with autographs of all the dog owners he’d worked with. She saw nothing but famous names.

Michael Jackson had a pit bull named Spanky?

 Emily knocked, and Akio Kudo opened the door with a big grin. He was a small effeminate Asian man who wore his hair spiked up in an elaborate mix between a Mohawk and a pompadour. He wore a long, colorful braided jacket and designer flip-flops. Dark glasses were perched on his nose, though it appeared to be fairly dark inside his cottage.

“Hello, Ms. Keane. So wonderful to see you!” He kissed her on both cheeks. “Come, let’s go around back to the kennel. AW is waiting for you.”

Emily followed him down the steps of the front porch and around to the side.

“You will be so pleased at the results,” Akio Kudo said, unlocking a tall, wooden gate. “He is truly a new dog.”

“He doesn’t bark anymore?”

“Not at all. Unless you command him to, of course.”

“Good, because if he makes even one peep—”

“He’s fine.”

“And what about the butt-wiping? You know the motion he makes with his rear end?”

Akio Kudo stopped and fixed his eyes on her. “Ms. Keane. Do you not understand who I am? Did Tyler not tell you?”

“Yes, yes, he said you work miracles. But I just want to make sure that AW has really changed.”

“I fully guarantee my work,” he said, ushering her through the gate. “That should tell you something. You will see that your dog is now a well-trained Schutzhund, the kind of animal even the German army would be proud of.”

Emily blinked. “Excuse me?” She didn’t know if she’d heard him right.

Akio Kudo waved his hand blithely, closing the gate behind her. “Just a saying. Seeing as you have a German shepherd, I’d think you’d want him trained as well as any Gestapo dog.”