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dogs,” I guessed.
    â€œOf course, he wanted to unload his dogs. When he knows full well that the setup time for breed exhibitors doesn’t start until tomorrow morning, eleven A.M. Numbers are preassigned through the mail, and members of the grounds committee are on hand to make sure that all the handlers, big and small, get the space they need. It’s the only way to ensure that everything goes smoothly.”
    â€œAnd yet Damien thought the club would make an exception for him?”
    â€œApparently so. Which is nothing short of astounding when you realize that he was the cause of our being kicked out of our last headquarters hotel.”
    Finding hotels that will allow large numbers of dog fanciers to use their facilities has become a nightmare for show-giving clubs everywhere. It’s not the hotels’ fault. Over the years, dog owners have earned themselves an often justified reputation as slobs and miscreants, leaving soiled rugs, chewed furniture, and flea infestations in their wake. No wonder that most hotels, faced with the prospect of housing such problem guests, simply refuse to take dogs at all.
    Bearing this in mind, PCA’s hotel coordinator works year round to ensure that hosting our large contingent of Poodle owners is a pleasant experience for all concerned. Participants are warned not to let their dogs bark excessively. No grooming is permitted in the hotel rooms; instead, the club rents a conference room within the hotel where exhibitors can work on their dogs. Areas where Poodles may be exercised outside are very strictly marked. Pooper-scoopers and garbage cans are lined up in readiness and all owners are expected to pick up after their dogs. Club members patrol all common areas—inside and out—cleaning and straightening as needed to make sure that our week-long stay is a happy one.
    Even with all those precautions, I knew that the club had switched host hotels recently. What I didn’t know was why. “What did Damien do?”
    â€œWhat didn’t he do? There were complaints from other guests from the moment he arrived. Crates jammed cheek to jowl into his room, dogs barking at all hours of the night. I gather he took it upon himself to dye several Poodles black in his bathtub. At least part of the resulting mess was apparently wiped up with a bedspread.
    â€œBut the final straw was when it came time to leave. In order to facilitate loading up, he backed his truck across the hotel lawn and parked it outside the door to his room. As for the door itself, he removed that from its hinges and set it aside. Somehow it was either lost or broken in the process. Who knows, maybe he took it home with him for a souvenir. Somewhat understandably, the hotel asked us not to return. We, in turn, were tempted to ask Damien not to return, but of course we have no control over who makes entries and who doesn’t.”
    â€œSo here he is again,” I said. “Even a day early, wouldn’t you rather have his dogs unloaded here than back at the hotel?”
    â€œIf we make an exception for Damien,” Aunt Peg replied, “what will we tell the next person who asks us to do the same? Besides, Damien can’t take his dogs back to the hotel. We tipped off the management. Heaven knows where he’s staying, but it’s not with the rest of the club. We can’t afford to let one bad apple ruin things for us again. That’s why he was so anxious to bring the dogs in here. He said he had no other place to put them until tomorrow.”
    â€œWhy did he come a day early then?”
    â€œWhy, indeed? I’ve long since stopped trying to figure out how his mind works.”
    â€œI guess he’ll think of something.”
    â€œEither that, or he’ll circle around and try to bully his way inside again later.” Aunt Peg sighed. “Where Damien Bradley is concerned, I’m sorry to say I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

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