Long Nose Legacy: A Dog's Story of Royalty and Loyalty

By J. G. Eastman

Winner 2020 GOLD Readers' Favorite (book), 2021 GOLD Readers' Favorite (Audiobook), 2020 Parents' Choice SILVER Award (Audiobook), Winner of 2019 B.R.A.G. Medallion. "An Undeniably Fun, Tail Wagging Romp! A Must Read!" (BookLife Prize).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Art Deco Dog Publishing
• Release date: Aug 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781732382725

Book preview

Copyright Page

LONG NOSE LEGACY

A Dog’s Story of Royalty and Loyalty

Text and Artwork © 2019 by J. G. Eastman

All Rights Reserved

Character Illustrations by Chanel Dezzoi Scott

Book Design and Art Direction by J. G. Eastman

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, who may be contacted at:

J. G. Eastman | Art Deco Dog Publishing

P.O. Box 193

Moss Beach | CA | 94038

[e-mail]

This is a work of fiction based on real and imagined events. Any resemblance to actual people or animals, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales, is completely coincidental, has been used with their permission, or is in the public domain.

Mango Tango® is a registered trademark of Earthwhile Endeavors, Inc., manufacturer of Earthbath Products, and is used with permission.

This book is available for purchase in the U.S. and internationally through Ingram, online stores, and other retailers.

First Edition

Published by Art Deco Dog Publishing

ISBN 978-1-7323827-0-1 Hardcover

ISBN 978-1-7323827-1-8 Paperback

ISBN 978-1-7323827-2-5 eBook

ISBN 978-1-7323827-3-2 Audiobook

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018906349

Printed in the United States of America

LongNoseLegacy.com | Facebook.com/LongNoseLegacy

Twitter.com/LongNoseLegacy

Dedication

With love and gratitude

to my mom,

Louise Medeiros,

who always said Carnegie

thought she was a princess

&

Charlotte Wheeler,

who knew Carnegie

could never be anything less.

This book is also dedicated

to my niece Mercedes,

whose love of Carnegie and Madison

helped to inspire this story.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Introduction

The Important Non-Person Characters

Chapter 1: The Royal Puppies

Chapter 2: Names Can Never Be Too Long

Chapter 3: Woof-Bear

Chapter 4: Pick of The Litter

Chapter 5: Woof Hunter

Chapter 6: Forever Homes

Chapter 7: Shopping

Chapter 8: Show Girl

Chapter 9: Anastasia

Chapter 10: Rising Star

Chapter 11: Love At First Sight

Chapter 12: Ike

Chapter 13: Royal Family

Chapter 14: Departure

Chapter 15: Imperial Palace

Chapter 16: Where Is She?

Chapter 17: Handsome Prince

Chapter 18: The Sweater

Chapter 19: Heaven

Chapter 20: Blackmail

Chapter 21: The Road To Russia

Chapter 22: Confession

Chapter 23: Henry

Chapter 24: Doc

Chapter 25: I Really Am Going To ’Splode

Chapter 26: Darla

Chapter 27: Emptiness

Chapter 28: An Evil Plan

Chapter 29: Dutch, Dottie, and Ditto

Chapter 30: Bobby

Chapter 31: The Portrait

Chapter 32: Dog Show

Chapter 33: The Vow

Chapter 34: Birthday Girl

Chapter 35: Pico

Chapter 36: The Morning News

Chapter 37: A Funny Story

Chapter 38: I’m So Sorry

Chapter 39: Meant To Be

Chapter 40: The Wolf’s Secret

Chapter 41: Royalty

Competitive Kissing

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Dogs Love Cookies

Introduction

This book was written for those who willingly bring pets into their homes, only to become their servants…and, to that end, will happily devote their time, money, and endless energy in the hopes of pleasing and entertaining them. But, mostly, this story is for anyone, of any age, who has ever loved a dog.

The Important Non-Person Characters

Chapter One:

The Royal Puppies

Everyone said Gracie was a prima donna. It’s true, she was. And, depending upon your point of view, that could mean either princess or spoiled brat. Gracie spent her time elevating spoiled brat to an art form, but today, of all days, she deserved to be pampered like a princess. Gracie had just given birth to a rare, noble litter of Russian Wolfhound puppies—or Borzoi as they are now called. Their aristocratic bloodlines could be traced back to the famous Borzoi who had lived in the Imperial Palace with the royal family in Russia, over a hundred years ago. Gracie and her newborn puppies were true Borzoi royalty.

Gracie wrinkled up her long, elegant nose as she looked disapprovingly around the guest bedroom. So, this is to be my puppies’ nursery, she thought. Sooner or later, my babies are going to know the truth. For all their noble blood, they have been born into very humble circumstances. We are in an ordinary room, in an ordinary house, sitting on an ordinary street, in Upstate New York—hardly the royal bedchamber in the glorious Imperial Palace, poetically positioned on a grand estate in Russia. Our nesting bed isn’t crafted of exquisite gold and fine velvet. It’s a turquoise blue plastic kiddie’s wading pool, of all things. Call me an insufferable snob, but I don’t think it gets any less regal than that.

She let out a loud sigh. It had been a difficult ordeal bringing her first puppies into the world. Even though her litter of four was considered small for her dog breed, she was feeling exhausted and generally miserable. What would make me feel better? she wondered. This tasteless sea horse and octopus motif in our nesting bed certainly isn’t helping matters. Maybe if those two persons stopped congratulating themselves on the birth of my puppies and paid a tiny bit of attention to the head princess around here…? How’s that for a unique idea?

She zeroed in on Garnett who was kneeling a few feet away peering into the nesting bed. Garnett Dixon was Gracie’s owner. The term owner was one the persons invented to make them feel more important. In truth, it was quite ridiculous. You couldn’t own Gracie. If you were very, very good and applied yourself diligently, you might qualify to be a servant. Garnett qualified in spades. Except now. Now, she was hopelessly engrossed in admiring the puppies and tossing adjectives around like confetti. Exquisite. Magnificent. Spectacular. Priceless. And none of this flattery-fest included Gracie.

Gracie narrowed her eyes and stared at her so-called owner. Garnett seems to have forgotten her one-and-only favorite who won all those coveted Best in Show titles. And who brought home that shiny silver Best in Show trophy she so proudly displays on the mantle? And whose Best in Show wins put the two of us on the cover of Hound Beautiful magazine? If Garnett was judging right now, I’d be lucky to place for Best in Room. Who birthed these exquisite magnificent spectacular priceless puppies anyway?

Gracie let out a louder sigh and looked to see if there were any takers. Apparently not. Garnett was now leaning over the edge of the nesting bed to get a closer look at the puppies. If she would only lean in a bit further, Gracie would be happy to restyle that chic mahogany-red hairdo of hers. It was the height of fun to see how a few well-placed licks could destroy an hour of fussing and blow-drying. Sleek to sticky-uppy in six seconds flat. When Gracie stood on her hind legs, she was taller than Garnett, who was quite petite by person standards. The opportunities for a head ambush were endless. It drove Garnett crazy. Naturally, it was on the top of Gracie’s daily to-do list.

Getting Garnett to notice her was hopeless, so she turned her attention to her puppies’ nanny. Garnett had hired her dear old friend and mentor, Charlotte Moore, to help raise the puppies. She was an expert on All Things Borzoi. Gracie assumed that catering to the puppies’ mother would be her first priority.

Charlotte was sitting quite close and easily within hair restyling range. But there was no point in messing up her already tousled gray mop. She didn’t seem to care. And if it wasn’t irritating, really, what was the point? Her glasses were much better sport.

Gracie tried to catch Charlotte’s eye and shoot her The Ray. It was a punishing stare that signaled any number of her demands. Interpreting what she wanted at any given moment was going to be Charlotte’s job for the next few months. So far, Gracie found her performance not up to standard. She and Garnett seemed to be having a contest for who could describe her puppies in the most glowing terms.

Gracie intensified her staring. Hel-loo? Over here. Am I invisible?

Oh my, Charlotte said, finally feeling The Ray focused on her. Sorry, we’ve been ignoring you, Gracie, dear. What do you need? She fumbled around for her glasses.

They’re on your forehead, Gracie thought impatiently. If you put them on, you can see with perfect clarity what I need. I’m as big as life, right in front of you.

Do you want some water, Gracie? Charlotte asked, holding out a bowl.

No? putting it aside.

Are you cold? putting a blanket on her.

No? taking it off.

Hungry? I haven’t fixed your dinner yet, but you can have a snack, holding out a dog biscuit.

No? Maybe later?

Gracie was dissatisfied with all of Charlotte’s offerings, although the biscuit was a little tempting. Maybe if it had been a gingerbread molasses cookie. Or maybe not. She didn’t know what she wanted. She just wanted…something. It was up to Charlotte to figure it out. She continued to glare at her. The Ray was relentless, merciless.

Oh Gracie, dear. I just don’t know… Charlotte said.

Maybe she’s tired and wants us to leave her alone with her babies for a while, Garnett offered up.

Yes, probably so. We’ll give her a little break and then I’ll come back with her dinner and clean up the puppies.

On their way out, Garnett couldn’t resist gloating over the puppies once more. They’re just perfection, aren’t they, Charlotte? The two little girls are going to be gorgeous like their mom.

They’re beauties all right, Charlotte agreed, starting to close the bedroom door.

No wait, Char, Garnett said, stopping the door. She ran back into the room, straight to Gracie. She bent down and hugged her tight, burying herself in Gracie’s fur, which felt like luxurious white fox. Garnett lifted up that beautiful Borzoi face and looked into those dark amber eyes. Gracie’s eyes softened as she gazed back into the eyes of the person she loved most in the world.

Garnett kissed her on the tip of her pointy nose and whispered, "I’m so proud of you, Gracie girl. I love you the most-est!"

Gracie’s heart melted. I’m such an easy mark, she thought. She had me at the hug. Garnett could make it very hard for a Borzoi princess to remain aloof.

After the door closed, she tried to shake off the sentimentality of their love scene and recover her lofty, aristocratic attitude. I must set a proper example for my pups, she said to herself.

Gracie noticed that for the first time, the nursery was quiet. What chatterboxes those two are, she thought. Not a moment’s rest with them anywhere in sight. It’s so lovely to have one’s room back to oneself. Until Charlotte returns, anyway. I can’t understand why we have to share our room with her.

She stood, and being careful not to step on her babies, circled around three times, and settled back in the nesting bed. Charlotte had lined it with lots of soft blankets and towels, so it was cushy and comfortable.

I suppose this bed is tolerable, Gracie thought. It wouldn’t win any design awards, but the size was just right. The walls were short enough for her to step over but high enough to keep the puppies from wandering. It was a triumph of function over form.

I don’t imagine we’ll be here forever, Gracie said to herself. Talk about forever—where’s Charlotte with my dinner? I’m starving. Maybe I should’ve eaten that biscuit. I hope she’s fixing me something good for a change. I’m tired of chicken. That last beef dish was boring too. Maybe lamb? I’ve heard pheasant is quite tasty, but then I wouldn’t know. I did like those little roasted potatoes she made me last week…

One of her puppies whimpered and interrupted her culinary musings. Gracie looked down at her tiny babies and, for the very first time, really examined them. She had never seen newborn pups before. When there were other litters in the house, the nursery door was always kept shut. When the puppies emerged, they already looked like scaled-down dogs.

What funny little creatures. Did I start out like this? she wondered. Their tender little paws looked like hamster feet, and they had pink bunny noses. Looking at their muzzles, it was already evident they would have the long, elegant noses that were the Borzoi trademark. Once they grew to size, Pinocchio would be impressed.

She looked still closer and was fascinated that every dog detail was there but in miniature. Every single whisker, every single claw—and so brand new, they were practically transparent. Their baby fur was a shiny layer of silky softness, their markings already set.

Imagine that? she thought. The white and red boys are the spitting image of their dad. Incredible. And Garnett was right. The girls look just like me. Lucky for them.

Lucky indeed. Gracie was breathtaking. She was supermodel tall—or at least waist-high on a person model—thin and elegant with a flowing plume tail that she held in a graceful low curve. She had a white silky coat with black markings and long fur on her chest and legs, called feathers. Her head was slender with sleek black fur on her small, fine ears and around her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. Her face had lovely tan markings that accented her cheeks, and to add just enough cute factor, little tan caterpillar-shaped eyebrows that expressed her moods and emotions. Right now, those eyebrows were frowning as she noticed her puppies’ eyes.

Oh no! she thought. They’re not working!

Every one of the puppies’ eyes were closed tight. The pups moved hesitantly and were shaky like they had a private earthquake under their blanket. It was evident they couldn’t see their surroundings. How would they be able to be sighthounds with their eyes always closed?

She shut her eyes and tried to imagine her babies’ sightless world. Holding still and inhaling deeply, she let her sense of smell reveal the room around her. The fruity fragrance of the cherrywood furniture. A halo of lemon? That’s right! She remembered Garnett rubbing some citrusy liquid on it. The fresh cotton of Charlotte’s bed sheets and the airy goose down of her pillow. The lamb scent of her sweater, the meadowy leather of her purse. The fluffy carpet with its grassy footprints. The outside world that clung to the drapes from an open window. All of these distinct scents came together to form a dimensional outline of the room and then filled in with vivid, colorful details.

She turned her focus towards her babies. Each one had such a distinctive fragrance, she was certain she could find them miles away. Gracie opened her eyes and saw her puppies, as if for the first time. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a rare feeling. It was love. Love, that with a few exceptions, wasn’t only for herself. She nuzzled her pups in close and licked them every which way until they were squeaky clean.

There. Better? You should eat now, she said to her little tribe. You’re very fortunate that I can provide milk for your dinner. The service is absolutely terrible around here.

Charlotte showed up minutes later—or hours later, when measured in Impatient Dog Time. She was surprised to see the babies were spotless, fed, and sleeping, snuggled in close to their mother.

Well, look at you, Gracie, dear. You’re way ahead of me, Charlotte said. I thought I was going to have to give your babies a bath.

Somebody has to pick up the slack, Gracie said to herself. Let’s get on with dinner, shall we?

Charlotte set down her dish where she could reach it without having to leave her pups. It was ground lamb, fresh English peas, and her favorite roasted potatoes. It smelled delicious. Yum! Charlotte might be a keeper. She wanted to dive right in but had to be strategic about it.

If I act too thrilled, Gracie thought, I’ll be eating lamb, peas, and potatoes for the rest of my life. But if I act too disinterested, she’ll take it away. Who knows what might show up next? She noticed Charlotte was watching her, waiting to see if she was going to start eating.

How to play this? Gracie wondered. Okay, sniff the food dish with mild interest and then take some little licks around the edges. That should do it. And indeed, Charlotte seemed to be satisfied.

Be a good girl, and eat it all up, Charlotte said. I’ll be back in a little bit.

As soon as Charlotte closed the door, Gracie ravenously dug in, savoring every bite.

Am I just hungry, or is this dinner perfection? The lamb…rare, just