Death of a Dog Whisperer (9780758284570) Read Online Free PDF

out?”
    â€œIce cream,” cried Kevin. “Yay!”
    I couldn’t have said it better myself.
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    Saturday’s dog show, sponsored by the Hudson Valley Kennel Club was held at a county fairground near Rhinebeck, New York. Not only was the location spacious and easy to navigate, it was only an hour’s drive from home—a perk that any dog show exhibitor knows better than to take for granted.
    Even better, the weather chose to cooperate beautifully. The morning was cool, but with a promise of afternoon warmth. A light breeze ruffled the tent’s raveled flap as Sam pulled the SUV up beside the grooming area and we began to unload our gear.
    It came as no surprise to any of us that Aunt Peg was already there. With Standard Poodles scheduled to be judged at noon, Sam and I had decided on a midmorning arrival. We’d calculated that would give us plenty of time to groom Augie and let Davey become comfortable with his surroundings, but not so much that the two youngsters would begin to grow bored and lose interest in the whole idea.
    Aunt Peg had probably gotten there shortly after dawn. By the time we arrived, she was holding court under the handlers’ tent. In the grooming area, exhibitors tend to group together by breed. Half the fun of going to a dog show is catching up with friends and sharing all the latest gossip. Win or lose, the time spent under the handlers’ tent is often the best part of the day.
    Aunt Peg had saved us room to set up in the middle of a sea of Poodles. Sam and I placed the grooming table and Augie’s wire crate side by side. The wooden grooming box—holding everything from brushes and combs to tiny colored rubber bands and hairspray—went on top of the crate for easy access. Space was at a premium so I shoved Kevin’s diaper bag under the grooming table and wedged a small cooler containing snacks for the boys under a table from the setup next door.
    â€œOh excellent, goodies!”
    Terry Denunzio, assistant to top Poodle handler Crawford Langley and one of my best friends, leaned around the Mini he was line brushing on top of that table, and aimed a pair of air kisses in my direction. His hair—currently golden blond and styled in waves—was impeccably coiffed. His skin was smoother than my own. Sadly his outfit was more stylish as well. In my own defense, I try not to make comparisons when Terry’s around, but sometimes it just happens.
    â€œIt’s about time you people arrived!” he trilled.
    â€œI believe that’s supposed to be my line,” said Aunt Peg. “ Where have you been?”
    â€œSleeping,” I told her. “Then eating breakfast, then packing the car, then driving.”
    â€œBut we’re here now,” Sam said cheerfully. “Morning, Peg.” He sketched a wave in her direction, left me with puppy and children, and went to park the car.
    I put Kevin down for a minute so that I could hoist Augie up onto the rubber matted grooming table. The puppy knew the drill. When I lifted his front paws and placed them on the table’s edge, he leapt up in the air then landed lightly on the rubber surface.
    Kevin, meanwhile, ran across the aisle and wrapped his chubby arms around Aunt Peg’s knees. “Pick up!”
    Peg gazed downward uncertainly. Dogs were her specialty. Children, not so much.
    â€œGo ahead,” I invited. “Make yourself useful.”
    Behind me, Terry snorted under his breath. Useful people were Aunt Peg’s favorite kind. Over the years, we had both been the object of similar commands at her behest.
    While she considered that, I began to unpack the grooming box. One by one, I laid out the tools of the trade on top of the table. Several seconds passed.
    Finally Aunt Peg bent down and looked Kevin in the eye. “I will pick you up, young man,” she said. “But only if you promise not to wiggle.”
    â€œWiggle,” Kevin agreed happily.