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

He held up his arms.
    â€œJust pretend he’s a puppy and hold him firmly,” I told her. “Trust me, it’s easier than you think.”
    Ready to begin brushing, Davey looped his arms around Augie’s legs and gently laid the puppy down on his left side. The right side—the one that faced away from the judge while the dog was in the ring—was always worked on first since it would inevitably be flattened while the show side was attended to. Davey picked up a pin brush and spray bottle of water and began to carefully work his way through Augie’s thick coat. Later he would need help setting the puppy’s topknot, doing the final scissoring, and spraying up Augie’s neck hair, but Sam and I were both determined that he should do as much of the prep work as possible on his own.
    â€œGood morning, all!” Crawford Langley came striding back into his setup.
    Tall, tan, and Whippet-thin, he moved with the assurance of a man who was at the very top of his game. Like Aunt Peg, Crawford had been in dogs for decades, and even on his bad days, he was a force to be reckoned with. Having come from the ring, the handler had a Silky Terrier tucked snugly beneath his arm, and a purple and gold Best of Breed ribbon clutched in his hand.
    Crawford paused to glance down at Augie, then addressed himself to Davey. “I see you’ve brought the tough competition today. I’ll be showing against you in the Puppy class. I’m going to have to be on my toes.”
    Davey beamed beneath the handler’s regard. “I’ll do my best to beat you,” he said seriously.
    â€œAnd you may well succeed.” Crawford laughed. “How many points does that puppy have now?”
    â€œSix,” Davey told him. “But no majors.”
    In order to complete its championship, a dog must earn a total of fifteen points. The number of points awarded at each show is determined by the size of the entry. Included within the fifteen points, a dog must accrue at least two major wins—awards of three or more points, indicating that he has defeated a significant number of dogs on the day.
    So far, Augie had amassed only “singles.” But today, with more than forty Standard Poodles entered in the various classes, the competition would be topnotch. Presiding over the Poodle ring was Vivian Hadley, a popular judge admired by professionals and owner-handlers alike. She had drawn major entries in dogs and bitches both.
    In an entry that size there was every possibility that Davey and Augie would be in over their heads. But Sam and I had both exhibited under Mrs. Hadley in the past. She was known to have a gentle touch on a puppy and to treat all of her exhibitors with kindness. While it was unlikely that Augie would take home any points, he and Davey were almost assured of having a good experience in the show ring.
    â€œDon’t you worry about that,” Crawford said to Davey. “That puppy’s only going to get better as he matures. There’ll be plenty of time for you to look for majors when he’s an adult.”
    Davey nodded. He’d heard much the same thing from Sam and me.
    Crawford removed the Silky’s leash, opened a wooden crate in the middle of his stacks, and slipped the small dog inside. As soon as his hands were free, Terry handed him a Pomeranian that was ready to go.
    Deftly the assistant slid the Silky’s numbered armband out from beneath the rubber band looped at the top of Crawford’s arm, and replaced it with the Pom’s number. Then the handler spun around and headed back to the ring. Judging by the size of his setup, Crawford had brought a full complement of dogs to the show. He and Terry would be running all day just to keep up.
    â€œLook who I found on my way back from the parking lot,” said Sam. He was threading his way toward us through the packed tent. Following along behind were Bob and Nick Walden.
    â€œDad, you