by Judy Alter
I feel a bit like
George W. Bush here, the time he got mixed up on “Fool me once, shame on you,
fool me twice” and ended with “Aw, you know what I mean.” But the saying I have
in my mind is “Never trust a man who doesn’t like dogs; always trust a dog who
doesn’t like a man.” Or something like that.
It’s an accepted fact
that dogs have some kind of sensitivity that humans either lack or ignore.
Scientific studies have shown, for instance, that trained dogs can sense their
owner’s seizure before the owner can because the dog recognizes changes in
chemistry, behavior, probably even scent. Guide dogs operate on a similar
sensitivity to their owners’ needs and anticipate such problems as stairs,
solid objects, etc.
But what about your
average pet? I had an Aussie who could sense a thunderstorm hours before it
hit—scientists think now they feel earth vibrations that we don’t. Scooby would
begin to pace when there was no sign of a storm, and his panic grew so bad the
vet prescribed tranquilizers. Trouble was I waited until the storm was close to
give him the pill, and it had long passed when the pill took effect and then he
was somnambulant.
After years of owning
several dogs, I am down to one—sometimes I call her my dotage dog. She’s a
deliberate cross of a miniature poodle and a border collie, and she’s loveable,
adorable, and fierce when protecting the house from the inside. I can tell in
the night from the tone of her bark whether or not it’s something I need to get
up for. Usually not. But sometimes there’s a deep, low-throated growl that
gives me the shivers. What would she do if I was ever attacked…or one of her
favorite people, like my grandson? I don’t know, hope I never have to find out.
Sophie’s a friendly, happy creature so believe me if she ever growled at
someone, I’d take it seriously. I wonder though why one minute she is sleeping
peacefully in her bed in the bedroom and then with a yelp is racing to bark
furiously out the front door. What signal did she get?
In my new mystery, Murder at Peacock Mansion, a dog’s
intuition plays a big part, and I’m not sure scientific experiments would
verify this. The dog is at Kate Chamber’s house, in the backyard, going
crazy—barking, pacing, all the things that dogs do when upset. Kate is having
her own anxiety attack because her partner/lover missed dinner the night before
and she can’t find him by phone. She plans to go to his house to check on him,
but Huggles, the dog, refuses to let her go without him.
Turns out Huggles
instinct or intuition was right on. Someone has burned the house down. Kate
assumes David is dead, but Huggles leads her to his car, parked a bit away,
where David lies, gravely beaten and barely alive. Now that part can be
explained by science—Huggles sensed probably body odors, fear, a trail—all
believable. So is what he did next—jumped on David to keep him warm.
But is it possible that
Huggles knew, from fifteen miles away or so, that David was in danger? Or was
he picking up on Kate’s anxiety? Did he realize David was missing? Until we can
teach dogs to talk, we’ll never know for sure. But I prefer to believe that the
dog, a labradoodle, sensed one of his owners was in trouble over that distance.
And it worked well for the plot.
Murder at Peacock Mansion
Arson, a bad beating,
and a recluse who claims someone is trying to kill her all collide in this
third Blue Plate Café Mystery with Kate Chambers. Torn between trying to save
David Clinkscales, her old boss and new lover, and curiosity about Edith
Aldridge’s story of an attempt on her life, Kate has to remind herself she has
a café to run. She nurses a morose David, whose spirit has been hurt as badly
as his body, and tries to placate Mrs. Aldridge, who was once accused of
murdering her husband but acquitted. One by one, Mrs. Aldridge’s stepchildren
enter the picture. Is it coincidence that David is Edith Aldridge’s lawyer? Or
that she seems to rely heavily on the private investigator David hires? First
the peacocks die…and then the people. Everyone is in danger, and no one knows
who to suspect.
An award-winning
novelist, Judy Alter is the author of six books in the Kelly O’Connell
Mysteries series: Skeleton in a Dead
Space, No Neighborhood for Old Women, Trouble
in a Big Box, Danger Comes Home, Deception in Strange Places, and Desperate for Death. She also writes the
Blue Plate Café Mysteries—Murder at the
Blue Plate Café, Murder at the Tremont House and the current Murder at Peacock Mansion. Finally, with
the 2014 The Perfect Coed, she
introduced the Oak Grove Mysteries.
Her work has been
recognized with awards from the Western Writers of America, the Texas Institute
of Letters, and the National Cowboy Museum and Hall of Fame. She has been
honored with the Owen Wister Award for Lifetime Achievement by WWA and inducted
into the Texas Literary Hall of Fame and the WWA Hall of Fame.
Judy is retired as
director of TCU Press, the mother of four grown children and the grandmother of
seven. She and her dog, Sophie, live in Fort Worth, Texas.