Vanessa turned and entered the parlour. Taking in the thick, green shag carpet that resembled moss, the life-like wood paneling on the walls and the green silk furniture, she got the impression like she always did, that she was inside a tree. She strode over to one of the high-backed, throne-like chairs and, sitting down, began whistling. Anyone with an ear for classical music would recognize the tune as that of Beethoven's seventh symphony. Believe it or not, the dog loved the music and it was an almost certain way to get her to come to you. Running out of breath, Vanessa stopped whistling and took a deep breath.
"Isie," Vanessa shouted at the top of her lungs. "Isie, Isie, Isabelle!" she called, her voice quavering with badly suppressed anger. Just then, that little, black, self-assured, menace of a dog pranced into the room by means of her own personal hallway and stair system within the walls of the mansion. The place was just that big. She looked up at Vanessa, her expression saying it all: 'What do you want smart one?' Vanessa held up the treat for Isabelle to see. "Do you want a treat?" she asked sweetly. "It's your favourite! Chicken! If you do, you're going to have to give me my gym socks." Just then a thought struck her like a blow to the head. "Please," she added in a sickly sweet voice, drawing out the 'e', her eyes wide and innocent with only the slightest hint of malice hidden in their depths. Isabelle took a tentative step forward, socks dangling out either side of her mouth.
"Come on pretty girl. Come get the treat." Isabelle adamantly refused to come any closer, sensing a threat from Vanessa's sickly sweet voice, tensed body, and altered balance. "You don't want to come? That's okay. You can lay down for me." As soon as the words left Vanessa's mouth, Isabelle turned and dashed out the door and around the corner, heading down the hallway toward the basement and her specially made kennel.