"Alice Hoffman - Turtle Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Alice)

compartment. They don't seem to understand that it's possible to know
exactly who a dog is by looking it in the eye for fifteen seconds.

This is not, and never will be, possible with a man.

Twenty years ago, when Julian drove through the hot Florida night in
his Oldsmobile, he truly believed it was possible to reach up and steal
the stars right out of the sky. Now he doesn't even see the stars
anymore. He doesn't look up.

The nature of his job as a tracker forces him to look down, and that's
why he can recognize the footprint of an armadillo in the dust. He can
hear a caterpillar chewing sweet bay leaves. Since he sees no reason
for neighbors, he lives out in what little is left of the marshes, past
Miss Giles's place, in an old cabin some people say belonged to Charles
Verity. A kennel runs along the far side of the cabin, built with the
strongest chain link available, and this is where Julian leaves the big
dog, Arrow, since his reaction to people is much more extreme than
Julian's. Julian usually has t,he other dog, Loretta, with him, even
when he isn't on duty. When he stops for supper, he picks up something
for Loretta as well, often from the Pizza Hut. Julian believes in
rewarding his dogs, even if this means tomato sauce on the upholstery
of his cruiser. This is not the way dogs were handled in the army.

On the base in Hartford Beach small riding crops were used on dogs that
refuse to perform, and the lieutenant was proud to claim there
wasn't a dog born he couldn't train to attack in two weeks. It gives
Julian great pleasure to know he's never once used force on a dog and
he's been asked several times to instruct the K9 corps at the base.

In all things, Julian knows, what you need is patience and time,
although some talents can't be taught. Loretta is a great tracker,
much better than Big Boy ever was. In seconds flat, she can search out
a bundle of marijuana hidden in a packed Suitcase, even if it's been
locked securely inside a car trunk. Last summer, when the mosquitoes
were so thick you could hardly breathe and the heat sent you reeling,
she found a lost hiker over near Lake Okeechobee long after the state
troopers had given up hope. With her record, Julian figures she
deserves a slice of pizza now and then; hell, he would buy her a Diet
Coke if that's what she wanted. It's his other dog, Arrow, who's the
difficult one. He would have been put down two years ago if Julian had
not seen him pacing the yard behind the animal hospital on the day he
took Loretta to the vet for her rabies shot.

Arrow's owner had bought him right after her divorce, for protection
and company, from a religious order that raised dogs and had greedily
allowed the breeding of a bitch known to be vicious. The result was
Arrow, a hundred-pound monster who was so out of control his owner
could no longer walk him down the street. When Julian stood by the
fence, Arrow charged him, on his hind legs, biting at the chain link,