That night after dinner, as the Alden children sat on the wide front porch with their grandfather and the Teagues, Jessie said, “Mrs. Teague, do you know someone who has a dog named Plum?”
“Plum?” repeated Mrs. Teague. “Well, yes, I do. That’s the name of a rather famous Old English sheepdog that is often at the same dog shows we attend.”
“Yes. From Burger Kennels,” said Caryn. “He’s a lovely dog, friendly and gentle. A beautiful sheepdog.”
“Why do you ask, Jessie?” Mrs. Teague inquired.
“We met Plum today while we were walking Mrs. DeCicco’s beagles,” explained Jessie.
Benny blurted out, “I liked Plum a lot. But I didn’t like his owner.”
“Oh, you must mean Lawrence Burger!” exclaimed Caryn.
“Mr. Burger didn’t seem to like us very much,” said Violet.
“At first he was nice,” Henry put in. “But all of a sudden, he just turned and walked away.”
“Yes. We were telling him about Sunny being in the dog show and he looked really upset,” said Violet.
Caryn shook her head. “Plum is a lovely, wonderful dog, but I’m afraid Lawrence Burger is just the opposite.”
“What do you mean?” asked Henry.
“He only wants to win. He’s jealous of anybody else who wins. He’s particularly jealous of Sunny because Sunny and Plum are often finalists for the Best of Show.”
“Does Sunny win?” asked Benny.
“Sometimes Sunny wins,” answered Caryn. “Sometimes Plum does. Sometimes other dogs do. But you know what’s sad? Even when Plum wins, Lawrence never seems to enjoy it.”
“It is too bad,” said Mrs. Teague. “But some dog show people are like that, unfortunately.”
“They think winning is everything?” asked Grandfather Alden.
“Exactly,” said Mrs. Teague.
Caryn laughed softly. “I like winning, and so does Sunny. But I think Sunny likes other things, also.”
“Like bones,” guessed Benny.
“And playing,” said Violet.
“And sleeping in the sun,” suggested Jessie.
“Yes, all of those things — things I bet Plum likes, too. I hope someday Lawrence learns to enjoy life with Plum, instead of always worrying about winning,” Mrs. Teague said.
“I hope so, too,” said Benny.
Caryn smiled. “Well, it’s time for Sunny to go to bed. It’s a big day tomorrow and she needs her rest. And so do I!”
“So do we all,” said Grandfather Alden, standing up. “Time for bed.”
“I hope tomorrow hurries up and gets here,” said Violet.
“It will be here soon, Violet,” promised Grandfather Alden.
The next day, everyone in the Alden house was up early. The Teagues and Sunny left first. “We have to get to the benching area by eight-thirty,” explained Caryn as they loaded Sunny and her equipment for the dog show into the car.
“We’ll see you there very soon,” Benny promised.
The Alden children hurried through breakfast. Then Grandfather drove them all to the Greenfield Center.
The center was even busier and more full of dogs than it had been the day before. The sound of barking filled the air. The loudspeaker boomed overhead. People hurried by in all kinds of clothes — some in aprons with pockets that held scissors and brushes, others in suits.
“The people in the aprons must be groomers,” said Henry. “Caryn was explaining that they often work on combing and clipping the dogs to make them look as good as possible, right up to the moment they go in the ring!”
“That’s a lot of work,” Jessie said.
Henry explained more as they walked through the center. “There are rules about how dogs can be cut for the shows, too.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Violet gave a little skip. “Dogs get haircuts just like people do!”
Grandfather said, “Here are your ticket stubs. Our seats are in the middle over there. I’m going to buy a program for us and sit down. After you’ve looked around a little, why don’t you come join me?”
“Okay, Grandfather,” said Henry. “I’ll put the tickets in my pocket where I can’t lose them.”
Grandfather went to find their seats around the show ring, while Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny walked toward the benching area.
“Look, there’s Mrs. DeCicco,” said Henry. “Let’s go say hello and wish her luck.”
But as the Aldens got closer, they saw that Mrs. DeCicco was talking to three people wearing suits.
“Maybe we can wish her luck another time,” said Violet shyly. Before the Aldens could leave, however, Mrs. DeCicco saw them and motioned them to come over.
“These are the Alden children, who helped me with my beagles last night when Ruth didn’t show up. And these” — Mrs. DeCicco clasped her hands and almost bowed — “are some of the judges! They are some of the most important people at a dog show.”
“Oh, now, I wouldn’t say that,” the tallest judge put in with a little shake of her head. “I’d say the owners and the handlers — and the dogs themselves — are the most important part of the show.”
Mrs. DeCicco unclasped her hands and wagged her finger. “No, no! Don’t you believe it, children. These are wonderful judges. You know, I’ve been at shows where I’ve felt that the judges just didn’t understand what a good beagle is. And of course my babies are perfect examples!” Mrs. DeCicco laughed and patted the tall judge’s arm. The judge, looking uncomfortable, took a step backward as Mrs. DeCicco went on. “I know I can rely on you to choose the best dog.”
All of the judges looked a little embarrassed at Mrs. DeCicco’s gushing words. The tall judge cleared her throat and said, “We do our best.” She turned to the Aldens. “Are you enjoying the dog show?”
The Alden children all smiled politely. “It’s our first dog show,” said Jessie. “We’re having a lot of fun!”
The judges all smiled. “I’m glad,” said the tall judge.
“Good luck to you, Mrs. DeCicco,” said another judge, and the three judges moved away down the benching aisle.
As the judges left, Mrs. DeCicco nervously clasped her hands again. “Judges!” she said. “Oh, dear, oh dear.”
“Is Ruth still missing?” asked Henry.
“What? Oh, no. She got here late last night. She’d had a flat tire. Strangest thing, you know. She’d just put new tires on her car.” Mrs. DeCicco kept staring in the direction the judges had gone. “Oh, dear,” she repeated. “I must win. I must.”
“Mrs. DeCicco?” said Violet. “Winning isn’t everything.”
Mrs. DeCicco looked at Violet. “Maybe not. But if I don’t win, I could lose everything!”
“What do you mean?” asked Jessie.
“I’ve put all my money, everything, into my beagles. And they all used to win all the time. But then I was in an accident and couldn’t show my dogs for a long time. Now we have to start winning again soon, or I won’t have any money left. I’ll be forced to sell my dogs and my kennel!”
“Oh, dear,” said Violet.
“I’m sure your beagles will win,” said Henry.
With a sad, serious expression, Mrs. DeCicco said, “Do you think so? I hope you’re right. They’re such good dogs.” She turned toward the three kennels with her beagles lined up inside. She bent down, and the sad expression left her face. “Aren’t my beagles good boys and girls?”
The beagles began to bark happily. “Yes, good dogs, the best beagles in the world, no matter what,” Mrs. DeCicco told them.
Henry looked at his watch. “We still have time to look around some more,” he said. After saying good-bye to Mrs. DeCicco, the Aldens made their way through the benching area, still staring at all the different kinds of dogs and all their amazing shapes and sizes and colors.
Then Jessie said, “Look!”
At the very end of the row, a man was sneaking up to an unguarded kennel. He kept looking back over his shoulder nervously as he bent down. Inside the kennel, the Aldens could see a droopy-jowled basset hound growling angrily.
“Nice dog,” said the man. The dog kept growling, watching the man suspiciously.
“Good doggie,” said the man. He appeared to be fumbling with the latch on the kennel door. The dog raised itself up on its front legs and barked. The man jerked his hand back.
“Excuse me,” said Henry.
The man jumped and spun around. He was not much taller than Henry. He had brown wispy hair combed across the top of his almost bald head, heavy brown eyebrows, and sharp little blue eyes.
“Excuse me,” Henry repeated. “Could we help you?”
“No!” said the man hastily. “Why do you ask?”
“Is that your basset hound?” asked Jessie.
“Why?” the man said.
“Because he doesn’t seem to know you. If you were his owner, I don’t think he’d bark at you like that,” persisted Jessie.
“Okay, okay, so the dog isn’t mine. A man can look at another person’s dog, can’t he? It’s a free country! Besides, I’m thinking of buying one. Yeah, that’s it. Maybe this one. Now, if you kids will excuse me — ” With that, the man pushed past the Aldens and disappeared into the crowd! |