“But that dog has a brain the size of a peanut.” As if to prove his point, the President tossed a stuffed shrimp on the floor in front of Zackie, who barked at it rather than eating it. “I win.”
Dilya sighed. “Thor’s smart though, isn’t he?”
“At least around food.” Linda snapped her fingers, then pointed at the shrimp. Thor—who’d been sitting patiently beside her—lunged in, snapped up the shrimp, and returned to his position to eat it happily.
“He’s well behaved,” the President bent down to pet him.
“Trained at a ranch in Montana.”
“Henderson’s,” he acknowledged. Then he froze, half bent over, before straightening slowly.
At first she was shocked that he knew the origin of her dog. But that didn’t explain why he was startled to be caught with that knowledge.
The only reason that she
