The Bark Before Christmas Read Online Free PDF

agreed. She sounded surprised. “But I’m not sure why your job ought to be done by me. Why don’t you walk around and spread the news?”
    â€œI could do that,” I said easily. “If you’d rather stay at the setup with the boys. Since you’re going to be here anyway with Davey”—once again my son lifted his head and shot me an anguished look—“do you mind keeping an eye on Kevin for me?”
    â€œKevin,” Peg said flatly.
    â€œYou know, the little boy? Almost three?” I pointed to a chair. “He’s sitting right over there.”
    â€œKevin,” Aunt Peg said again.
    Hearing his name for a second time, the toddler looked up. “What?” he inquired.
    â€œI think you mean ‘Excuse me,’ ” I told him.
    Kev tipped his head to one side and thought about that for a moment. He didn’t issue a correction, however. Instead he merely picked up his red crayon and went back to coloring.
    â€œI don’t do children,” Aunt Peg stated.
    â€œKev’s not children, he’s family.” I smiled sweetly.
    â€œAll the same—”
    â€œYou could help him color,” I suggested. “Or maybe read to him. Just don’t let him start taking his clothes off.” Slipping deftly between table and crate, I started to walk away. “And make sure he doesn’t disappear. That’s a biggie.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œHis diaper bag is on Augie’s crate. And there’s a changing table in the ladies’ room. You know . . . just in case.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œExcuse me?” I stopped and cocked an ear, just like Faith would have done.
    â€œ You stay here,” Aunt Peg said firmly. “And I will make the rounds of the other exhibitors.”
    I held my breath until she’d swept past me. Aunt Peg’s long stride carried her quickly down the narrow aisle between the stacked crates. She went a good ten yards before she even slowed down. Then it was to stop and chat with a Bichon exhibitor. Aunt Peg never looked back once.
    â€œThat was masterfully done,” said Bertie.
    I was pretty pleased myself. “I guess I’m getting a little smarter as time goes on.” I turned to Kevin and grinned. “Good going, kid. Thanks.”
    Kev looked up. “’scuse me?” he said.
    Â 
    Sam returned from parking the car. Bertie and the Finnish Spitz left to go to the ring. Davey finished brushing Augie’s right side and turned him over. The left side—the one that faces the judge when the Poodle is in the ring—is always brushed last so that it won’t flatten and lose its shape when the dog lies on it. Without Aunt Peg there to stir up trouble, things were remarkably peaceful at the setup.
    An hour before the Standard Poodles were due in the ring, the Toy judging began. I was about to head over to get a look at our new judge when Sondra McEvoy, the mother of one of my students, passed by the setup. She was carrying her West Highland White Terrier, GCH Westglen Braveheart—informally known as Kiltie—tucked under one arm. Her other hand clutched a purple and gold Best of Breed ribbon, attesting to the fact that her recent outing in the show ring had ended successfully.
    â€œCongratulations,” I called.
    â€œThanks.” Sondra angled her path my way. She was a slender woman in her early forties, with a pale complexion and wide-set blue eyes. Her short dark hair was styled in a chic bob. As she approached, Sondra blew out a relieved breath. “I was afraid I might not get him out of the breed today so I’m happy to have that behind me. The Group judge loves Kiltie. From here on in it should be smooth sailing.”
    From what I could tell, lots of judges loved Kiltie. The Westie was a regular competitor in the Group and Best in Show rings. Still, though the breed ring could sometimes seem like little more than a