Watchdog (22 page)

“He did.” I finished the first side of Faith's mane coat and ran the slicker through her bracelets. Then I tapped her back and she stood up and turned over.

“That hardly sounds like the kind of behavior that would be conducive to continuing a friendship.”

“I'm not sure the friendship did continue. Listen to what else I found out.” I blew on my fingers to warm them, then parted Faith's hair and began to brush as I told her about my phone conversation with Audrey DiMatteo.

There's very little that can distract Aunt Peg when she's working on a dog, so when she laid down her brush to listen, I knew she was perturbed. “We're talking about the possibility of a stolen puppy. Do you honestly believe anyone would commit murder over that?”

Since it wasn't as though I had a lot of other theories, I was beginning to grow attached to this one. “Someone might,” I said defensively. “Maybe a really dedicated breeder.”

“I
am
a dedicated breeder. And I'll tell you right now there isn't a puppy in the world that's that important. If you ask me, the ex-wife did it. Anyone who won't even allow a dog into her house is definitely someone who can't be trusted.”

Good old Aunt Peg. At least she's consistent.

“You don't think John did it because he's a dog person.”

“I'll admit that biases me in his direction. But that's beside the point. What you're telling me doesn't make sense. The theft took place a decade ago. If it made John angry enough to kill, presumably he'd have done something at the time.”

I'd wondered about that myself. “I never said I had
all
the answers.”

“No, but you certainly implied you had some of them.” Aunt Peg hates it when any relative of hers comes up short. “Why don't you go talk to John after the judging and straighten this whole mess out? He's here today, you know. His new dog won the breed from the classes this morning.”

“How'd you find that out?” Generally, Aunt Peg didn't follow the action in the Fox Terrier ring.

“You had a visitor earlier, a girl named Kate. It seems she'd seen us together at the Rockland show. When she saw me setting up, she came by to ask if you were here yet.”

Peg waved down the tent. “She said they were set up down at the other end and that they'd be here all day because Summer had to stay for the group. So there'll be plenty of time to look him up later, after the Poodle judging. And this time, try to get your facts straight, will you?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Aunt Peg sent me a baleful look. “If you were my child, you'd know better than to go barking up the wrong tree.”

Presumably I'd also be taller and better groomed.

I picked up my brush and went back to work.

When Aunt Peg and I are at a dog show together, she usually allows extra time in her schedule to help me get Faith ready. Preparing a Poodle for the show ring is a long and painstaking process. There are dozens of small steps to be completed, and each one is dependent on myriad tiny details. Slip up even slightly anywhere along the line, and the finished product will suffer.

After a year of showing, I've reached the point where my grooming skills are just about adequate. I'm better than a beginner but nowhere near the level of skill that the professional handlers achieve. I have to compete against the pros, however, and that's why Aunt Peg's masterful assistance is a godsend.

Since she is Faith's breeder, the Poodle's appearance and achievements reflect directly upon the Cedar Crest line. Knowing this, I had perhaps been guilty of taking Aunt Peg's help for granted, or at least assuming that it would always be there. That morning, however, I was in for a rude awakening.

After I finished brushing Faith, it was time to put in her topknot. The ponytails she wears on her head at home are loose and floppy. Their purpose is to keep the long hair out of her way and allow it to grow without tangling.

In the show ring, however, the topknots the Poodles wear are tight and precise. The rounded bubble of hair above the eyes complements the dog's expression while the mass of loose hair above and around it provides a softening frame for the face. I parted the thick strands of hair with a knitting needle and put in the front elastic just behind Faith's eyes.

On my first try, my bubble was loose and uneven. On the second it tilted to one side. Muttering under my breath, I cut out the rubber band with a small pair of scissors and called for Aunt Peg's help.

“You can do it,” she said. “Try again.”

“I've tried twice already. At this rate, I'll never get her sprayed up.”

“Sure you will,” Peg said blithely. She had Hope's topknot already in, and the bitch was standing on the table while Peg scissored the trim. “It's time you began doing things for yourself.”

I spritzed Faith's topknot hair with water, gathered it up, and started over. “Two weeks ago, you couldn't wait to push me out of the way and fix Faith's lines.”

“Quite right. And then you took my nice trim into the ring and beat me with it.”

We were both silent for a moment, pondering the implications of
that.

“What do you know?” Aunt Peg said finally. “I always thought I was a good sport and now it turns out I'm a sore loser.”

Looking suitably annoyed, she set down her scissors, strode over to my table and in less than a minute had a perfect bubble arranged above Faith's eyes. “I hope you were paying attention,” she said. “I'm not going to keep this up forever.”

“I wouldn't dream of asking you to.” I sprayed up Faith's mane coat myself and did all my own scissoring. When I was finished, she didn't have the highly polished look of her sister, but I was glad to see that she was still a very presentable Poodle.

The ring where the non-sporting breeds were being judged was at the far end of the other tent. As our scheduled time approached, I left Peg to keep an eye on Davey and the Poodles and went to get our armbands from the steward. The judging was running a few minutes late and there was a line to pick up numbers.

As I waited, a trio of Bulldogs circled the ring. Obviously enjoying the cool weather, the heavyset dogs were unusually animated. The judge, who was bundled up just as warmly as I was, watched them with a smile on her face.

“Hey, Ms. Travis!” I jumped slightly at the sound of an excited squeal. Kate Russo came skipping up beside me. “I thought I'd find you here. Are you showing today? Where's your Poodle?”

“She's back at the grooming tent. I just came over to get the armbands.”

“I met that lady you're with, Mrs. Turnbull, right?”

I nodded.

“Did she tell you that Summer won this morning? He beat the specials and everything! John's really psyched. He says this is just the beginning. Summer might even be a better dog than his grandmother.”

“That's great.” I peered around the person in front of me as the line inched forward. Bulldogs were wrapping things up in the ring. If I didn't get the armbands soon, Aunt Peg and I were going to be late. “Please congratulate John for me. I'll come by later and watch him in the group.”

“There's something else.” Kate stepped closer and lowered her voice. “You know how you wanted me to ask questions?”

“One question,” I corrected, frowning. Though she'd gotten the information I needed, I still felt guilty about Kate's burst of extra initiative. “I hope you haven't been bothering John again.”

“Of course not.” She managed a wounded look. “I Just figured it wouldn't hurt to keep my ears open. You know, keep tabs on how things are going?”

“Kate,” I said sternly. “You weren't supposed to go overboard. I never asked you to spy on anyone.”

“I'm not spying, I'm paying attention. There's a difference. Did you know that John is looking for a backer for Summer?”

“He mentioned it briefly. I don't believe he'd found anyone yet when we spoke about it.”

“Well, he has now—”

“Breed?” asked the steward as the person in front of me took his armbands and stepped away.

“Standard Poodles. I need two.” I looked in the steward's book and pointed out Faith's and Hope's entries. Once again, they were entered in two different classes: Hope in Bred-by-Exhibitor and Faith in 12—18 Months. The steward checked them off, then fished through the pile of numbers on the table, looking for the ones I needed.

“It's some guy with a lot of money,” said Kate.

I reached around her and plucked two rubber bands out of the bag. “They always are.”

“John said the man was here today to look at Summer and if he liked what he saw, they'd go ahead and make out a contract. So I got this idea—”

“Next?” The steward slapped the two armbands into my hand. Pushed from behind, I wasted no time in stepping out of line.

“Can we talk about this later?” I said to Kate. “I've got to get back and get my dog.”

“Well sure, but—”

Behind me, the steward began calling the first Standard Poodle class into the ring. Dogs were judged first, followed by bitches, but the entry wasn't large and I knew Faith's class would be called within minutes.

“Gotta go,” I said and ran.

When I got back to the setup, Aunt Peg was pacing beside the tables. “You took long enough. Are you sure they haven't started yet?”

“They just did. Puppy Dogs are in. We'd better hurry.”

Faith stood up, wagging her tail. I kissed her on the nose, stuffed some dried liver in my pocket to use for bait, and hopped her off the table. “Where's Davey?”

“Right here,” said my son, poking his head out of Faith's crate. “Aunt Peg told me to stay somewhere where I wouldn't get lost.”

“Good thinking. We're going up to the ring now. Can you carry my hair spray and extra comb?”

“Sure.” Davey held out his hands. Having a job to do made him feel important. “Aunt Peg called you a slowpoke.”

“Aunt Peg didn't have to wait in line to pick up numbers. Come on, everybody ready? Off we go.”

By the time we got back to the Poodle ring, Winners Dog was being judged. There was only one Puppy Bitch; then it was Faith's turn. I tried to remember everything Sam had coached me to do two weeks earlier, but we were the only entry in the class and our time in the ring passed so quickly it was all a blur. Aunt Peg was also alone in her class and there were no Open Bitches. That left only Hope, Faith, and the winner of the Puppy Class to compete for Winners Bitch.

The judge took her time with the decision. Aunt Peg, clearly in no mood to be beaten again by her upstart niece, used every handling trick she knew to showcase her bitch to advantage. I wasn't surprised when Hope was awarded Winners Bitch, but I was disappointed. Having tasted the thrill of victory once, I'd been hoping I could turn winning into a habit.

Peg left the ring with the all important purple ribbon, and Faith was awarded Reserve Winners over the puppy. The first time she'd won Reserve, I'd been ecstatic. Now I'd been around long enough to realize all it really meant was that I wasn't getting any points. I stuck the striped ribbon in my pocket and joined Davey outside the ring as Peg and Hope went back in to compete for Best of Variety.

While the judge sorted through her entry, I looked around hoping to spot Kate. It was a shame I'd had to run out on her earlier when she'd wanted to talk. She'd said something about John Monaghan choosing a sponsor for his new dog. Frankly, the subject didn't interest me much. But it had interested Kate for some reason.

Too late I was realizing the magnitude of the mistake I'd made in asking her to talk to John about his puppies. Kate was obviously a mystery buff, and somehow she'd gotten the idea that she should do some investigating of her own. I was going to have to talk to her about that hare-brained idea before she managed to parlay her small involvement into big trouble for both of us.

Now that I was free, however, Kate was nowhere to be seen. In the ring the judge awarded Best of Variety to one of the specials and gave Hope Best of Winners. Aunt Peg collected her ribbon and exited the ring. She declined to have her picture taken for winning only a single point and we headed back to the other tent.

“Can I have your armband?” asked Davey, trotting alongside.

“I don't see why not.” I slipped the cardboard number down off my arm. “Do you want to wear it?”

Davey nodded and looked at Aunt Peg. “Can I have yours, too?”

“Are you going to wear them both?” she asked.

“Sure. One on each arm. Then everyone will think I'm showing two dogs.”

Armbands are worn one at a time in the ring, and only on the left arm where the judge can see them easily for identification purposes, but I couldn't see any point in bursting Davey's bubble. We stopped and I banded both numbers on over his jacket. “Now you look very official.”

Davey grinned proudly. “Can I hold Faith's leash?”

I hesitated before handing it over. “You have to be really careful. You're sure you won't let go?”

Though Davey walks Faith all the time at home, dog shows are an entirely different proposition. With all the noise and activity, not to mention the thousand other dogs in attendance, even the best behaved pets tend to forget their manners and training.

Faith was very obedient and I'd have trusted her in almost any situation. But I'd also seen dogs that had gotten loose accidentally on the show grounds. Surrounded by so much confusion, many panicked and responded by running blindly. I wasn't about to let that happen to Faith.

“I can do it,” said Davey. “Honest.”

I reached down and wrapped the lead carefully around his left hand. When Faith jumped forward, Davey went flying after her, but we made it back to the setup without mishap.

Peg and I spent the next half hour taking our Poodles apart. The tight topknots they'd worn in the ring had to be taken down and replaced with more comfortable looser ones. Ear hair needed to be wrapped and banded. I finished by spraying Faith's neck hair with a conditioner that would cut the hair spray so it would be easier to get out later.

By the time the Poodles were back in their crates, lunchtime had come and gone. All the food at the concession stand looked limp and overcooked. While I was contemplating a platter of soggy sandwiches, Aunt Peg bypassed the lunch offerings entirely and went straight to dessert. She filled a tray with two Danish pastries and three large cookies. Immediately Davey fell in line behind her.

I could have wasted my time lecturing them both about fat content and empty calories but when Peg offered me the third cookie, I ended up defecting to the other side instead. I could always make up for it later by serving lots of steamed vegetables for dinner.

Yeah, right.

The groups had already started by the time we finished eating. The grooming tent is a great place to hear all the latest gossip, and throughout the day there'd been plenty of talk about John Monaghan's new Wire Fox Terrier, Summer. Like me, Aunt Peg was curious to see him. When a voice over the loudspeaker called all terriers to the group ring, we quickly cleaned up and hurried over to watch.

The terrier group is the largest of the seven groups recognized by the American Kennel Club. The breeds contained within it are diverse with respect to size and coat and color, but all were originally bred to hunt small game. The group takes it name from the Latin word terra, meaning earth, and most terriers are great diggers. They are also lively and intelligent, and the terrier group is one of my favorites to watch.

The dogs filed into the ring and lined up in size order, which placed the Airedale and the Kerry Blue at the head of the line and the Australian Terrier and Dandie Dinmont toward the end. John and Summer were midway down the length of the ring. As soon as they found their spot, John knelt on the ground behind the compact dog and stacked him.

I sidled closer to Aunt Peg so we could talk without being overheard. “What do you think?”

“Give me a chance! I haven't even seen him move yet.”

Dogs are judged on both their conformation and their movement, as each is an indicator of their suitability to do the job for which the breed was developed. But that wasn't the only reason Aunt Peg wanted to reserve judgment until she'd seen Summer move.