Chapter II.IV

Looking around - as if afraid that they were being overheard - Jo was about to tell his friend about his new neighbour, when suddenly Japhet raised his finger up.

- Listen, mate, what now writing in papers! - he said loudly.

With these words, apartment's owner pulled out the latest issue of The Oregonian from under the table.

- Japh, you know... - Jo said hesitantly.

Mister Thurlow wanted to say that he didn’t care about all these press, but his friend could no longer be stopped.

- "Dog earned an bacon", - Japh loudly announced the news headline.

"Sounds like the title of a moral story for kids", thought Jo, making himself more comfortable in his chair.

- "In a controversy, two dog trainers decided to find out which breed is the most patient and causes more sympathy among others", - friend started reading.

- What kind of cynological quarrels... - mumbled mister Thurlow.

- "To resolve the issue, they arranged an examination for their pets", - Japh continued

- Do you really thinking, what this is interesting to me? - Jo couldn't resist.

Japhet lowered the newspaper and looked at him - his hidden behind glasses eyes expressed reproach, like that of a mentor.

- Wait a bit, it will be more interesting further, - he said and buried his face in the newspaper.

- You always tell everyone that "more interesting further", - Jo imitated his friend.

The owner of the apartment ignored this guest’s remark and continued reading.

- "Cummins and I decided to check whose dog performs the commands "Stay" and "Sit" better, - tells Nuell Saberlow, famous cytologist-instructor of Portland", - Japh read.

"Hmm, I think I've heard this name before", thought Jo.

- "We both decided to left our dogs for a whole hour on Pearl District. Well, on a bit of a lark, I placed two felt hats next to them and a "I'M ASKING FOR BACON" signs too", - after these lines, Japh could not help but laugh a little.

- It seems that these are circus performers, not dog handlers, - his friend caught his tone.

But at the same time he thought that this Nuell Saberlow had something in common with that same friend of his late mother who helped her get a dog. Over the years, Jo had forgotten his name, but this extraordinary antics from the newspaper involuntarily made him remember that cheerful, muscular man.

- "The winner was my Labrador Flarie - passers-by were pleased to encourage the gallant white giant, who also bowed at each donation".

Having read this, Japhet raised his head and looked at mister Thurlow over his glasses.

- Do you think you would have acted the same as the onlookers from Pearl District? - he asked a question.

- Well, that's unlikely, - Jo replied. - I have my own dog, why should I give money to someone else?

- There is common sense in your words, - Japh nodded. - Only dogless apartment residents can afford such expenses.

- How would you do it yourself? - mister Thurlow decided to turned the spotlight.

- I? - Japhet, his hands occupied with the newspaper, furrowed his brow.

- You yourself live in an apartment and don’t have a dog, - his friend rightly reminded him.

The owner of the apartment decided to evade this question and returned to the newspaper.

- "In an hour Saberlow's dog Flarie earned whole eight United States dollars, and his competitor, Cummins' fearsome rottweiler named Raider, just a measly two American bucks", - he read.

- I hate rottweilers, Japh! I hate 'em! - theatrically exclaimed Jo, imitating a hero from some action movie.

- You're not the only one in Portland, it's now scientifically proven, - Japh laughed.

- Was that the end of the article? - mister Thurlow said, seeing his friend put the newspaper on the table.

- Yes, that's the whole note. Or do you think that an article about some trainer would deserve a separate page?

- It's understandable, - his listener nodded. - The best thing about it is the eye-catching title.

- And if remove it, - his friend answered. - Then there would be nothing interesting left.

- So why did you read it to me then? - Jo looked at Japh somewhat reproachfully.

He didn’t answer, he just took off his glasses and began to wipe them with a piece of suede. Jo reached for the newspaper.

- You can take her with you, - apartment's owner said casually as his friend picked up a copy of The Oregonian.

- No-no, I'll just take a look - his guest answered hastily, running his eyes over the lines.

The first thing that caught his eye was the huge heading, under which was indicated the name of note's author - certain Megan Heaton. Next was the text that Japh had just retold to him, and at the very end of the article there was a black and white photograph in which the big man was holding a huge white Labrador on a leash. The caption under the photo read "Nuell Saberlow and his faithful Flarie". Jo looked at it and froze, not believing his eyes.

- This is the same trainer who helped our family with dogs! - he exclaimed, throwing the newspaper back on the table.

Japh, who had already pushed his glasses up his nose, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

- What, do you feel proud that your friends are mentioned in the press? - he quipped.

Mister Thurlow said nothing to this, only lowering his head down onto the linoleum that covered the kitchen floor.

- Curious, - Japh continued. - How much would your Belgian malinois earn? - he meant Buffalo.

- I don't think anyone would give him even a cent, - Jo noted with some sadness. - He's so rude...

- This same Saberlow fitted it for you, right? - his friend smiled.

- Yes of course, - mister Thurlow remarked with some annoyance.

- Everyone is always fooling you, - the owner of the apartment said either comforting or mocking. - And then they write about those who fooled you in the newspapers.