Style, you
either have it or you
don't. And if you have it, you have it
all the time.The Rogue Goes to the Dogs - Part 1
by Tux Toledo
It
is said that a dog is man’s best friend. For some men that is
undoubtedly true. For others money is their best
friend. In some rare cases both dog and money are a man’s
best friend. Nick Arthur was one of those cases.
"Sporting dogs are the only real dogs", Nick said with the stern
emphasis of a man who wants to be taken seriously. "None of
those sissified house pets for me. No, a dog belongs in the
outdoors at his master's side."
"Man's best friend," I smiled.
"It's more than that," Nick snapped. His gaze was as sharp as
the crease in a good butler's pants. "I'm talking about field
trials. Ever heard of them?"
"Field trials? No, not really."
"They're sporting events where a dog becomes more than man's best
friend, he becomes his partner. Each relies on the
other. It's teamwork, Mr. Churchill. To win, dog
and man must each do their jobs. There's more to it than
friendship. Loyalty. Respect. That's what
it's all about."
Nick Arthur looked as if he knew what he was talking about.
He was a tall man with perpetually tanned skin, a head that looked as
if it had been carved out of stone, and enough muscles to satisfy an
anatomy class. A real outdoorsman. He was also a
mergers and acquisitions specialist and the owner a gorgeous Spanish
style home in the Marina with fabulous views of the Golden Gate Bridge,
the yacht harbor, and Alcatraz. I had heard that he also
owned a beautiful home down the peninsula in Woodside. Horsey
country.
You would think that a man with all of that wealth would be exceedingly
happy, but he was far from blissful. And the party he was
throwing wasn't cheering him up much.
© 2008 David Biagini