Free Live and Let Growl by Laurien Berenson

waved her parking pass, and then pulled through to the lot. “I don’t know the answer to that. Perhaps you should ask her yourself.”
    â€œAre we going to back Lexington later?”
    I had seen Aunt Peg’s schedule. She had a full day’s slate of dogs to judge. I wondered when we were going to fit in such a trip.
    â€œNot at all. In fact, that’s my surprise. Miss Ellie is coming here to the dog show.” Aunt Peg smiled with satisfaction. “Mind you, it took some convincing on my part. At first she seemed quite reluctant to join us. For some reason Miss Ellie seems to think that she won’t fit in with the current dog show crowd.”
    â€œNonsense,” I said.
    â€œThat’s precisely what I told her. Ellie Gates Wanamaker was a fixture in the Midwestern dog community for many years. I’m sure at least some of her old friends will be here. Not only that but the entry in Poodles is enormous. She’s bound to enjoy watching the judging.”
    Listening to our conversation from the backseat, Faith heard a familiar word. She lifted her head and cocked an ear inquiringly.
    â€œOther Poodles,” I told her. “Not you.” As an unentered dog, Faith would be spending most of the day tucked inside a large crate at Bertie’s setup.
    â€œSo now you won’t be at loose ends all day while Bertie and I are busy working.” Aunt Peg found an empty parking spot around the back of the building near the exhibitor’s entrance. She pulled the minivan into it. “Instead I’ve found you a way to make yourself useful. You will have the rare privilege of escorting Miss Ellie around the dog show.”
    Loose ends, indeed, I thought. I should be so lucky. Despite what Bertie had said, I’d still been planning to offer her my services. Not only that, but I’d been hoping to watch the Poodle judging as well.
    On the other hand, useful people were Aunt Peg’s favorite kind. And spectating at the Poodle ring would be even more interesting with Miss Ellie by my side. Indeed, it occurred to me that perhaps I should thank Aunt Peg for the vote of confidence.
    I never got the chance. As soon as the three of us stepped inside the large building, Aunt Peg was all business. “I have to go check in,” she told me. “You’ll want to keep yourself available. I told Miss Ellie to call you as soon as she arrives.” And then she was gone.
    Faith and I paused at the edge of the cavernous room to get our bearings. Even though I had never been to this particular venue before, the large pavilion already looked and felt familiar. Nearly all dog shows share a similar order and pattern of organization; and the vast hall where the show was being held appeared very much as I’d expected it to.
    Twenty-two rubber-matted rings were arranged in back-to-back rows down the middle of the room. A wide aisle had been left free around the block of rings. Exhibitors would congregate there as they awaited their turns in the ring; spectators could use the space to pull up chairs and watch their favorite breeds.
    Behind that busy area were the vendors’ booths, offering everything from dog supplies to canine artwork and jewelry. Around the hall’s perimeter was a narrow corridor available for grooming. Another larger, lighter grooming area filled the handlers’ room next door.
    Casual dog show attendees think that what happens in the show rings—who gets awarded what ribbon, who gets their picture taken when it’s all over—is all that matters. But exhibitors know better. The amount of time that dogs spend being judged is miniscule compared to the hours that are devoted to prering preparation. And much of that time is spent in the handlers’ area.
    There, exhibitors spend the day grooming, gossiping, and hanging out with friends—all while sizing up the competition. By the time the judging arrives, it’s not unusual for