Black Ribbon

introductory lecture about the artificiality of the show pose. “The natural look isn’t what we’re after here,” he told us. When Eric switched to the topic of collar position, I followed his instructions, moving the collar to Rowdy’s jawline, tightening it there, and making sure that the dead ring was just below Rowdy’s right ear. Glancing around, I noticed that, for once, Craig was working with Lucky, stooping down and running unfamiliar fingers around the little dog’s neck. When it came time to pose the dogs, I mechanically followed along with everyone else. Rowdy, however, who’d evidently grasped the purpose of the class, got a glint in his eyes and not only stacked himself to advantage, but went to great lengths to wag his tail with eye-catching enthusiasm.
    “That’s a real showman you’ve got there,” Eric commented.
    I nodded. To Rowdy, I said, “Happy now?”
    Soon thereafter, Eric asked the experienced people to leave the ring. To what was probably Rowdy’s disappointment, I led him out. In other circumstances, I’d probably have gone to the second ring to practice almost anything. Instead, I stood outside Eric’s ring and listened to him address the beginners. “The first thing you have to ask yourselves is: What is your intention here? If you’re here to have fun, that’s fine. If you’re here to socialize your dog, that’s fine, too. If you’re here because you’re thinking about trying to finish your dog, I’ll give you my opinion. But if you ask for it, there are a couple of things you have to bear in mind. First of all, it’s just my opinion, you asked for it, and you do what you want with it—keep what you want, throw out the rest. And second of all, don’t ask if you don’t want to hear.”
    Stepping rapidly up to me, Joy asked, “What’s he talking about?”
    “Finish means finish a championship,” I said. “Some of the people might want to know whether their dogs might be worth showing, and he’s offering to give his opinion, but just if it’s helpful, just if people want to hear.”
    Joy burst in: “Well, I hope he doesn’t say anything awful about Lucky! Because that’s the last thing Craig... I understand, and I really love Lucky, and I don’t care, but... I don’t know why Craig insisted on coming to this. We really don’t belong here. We don’t belong at this camp at all. I wanted to go home this morning, but Craig said we’d paid our money, and we were going to stick it out.”
    “If Craig asks, Eric will be tactful,” I said.
    “Not like Eva.... Was that the most awful thing? Everything has been awful since practically the first second we got here, but last night was the worst.” Joy paused. “But do you believe what Lucky did?” When Ginny came striding up with Bingo, Joy’s pride evaporated. “Oh,” Joy said softly, “here comes that horrible dog. But at least today he’s wearing a muzzle.”
    “Rowdy, down!” I ordered. “Stay!” I bent over to give him the signal, my flat palm in front of his face. When I stood up, Ginny and Bingo had reached us.
    “That’s not a muzzle,” I informed Joy. “It’s a training halter.”
    And in combination with Ginny’s in-charge manner, it worked very well indeed. When Ginny told Bingo to sit, sit he did, and promptly.
    “Eva,” Ginny announced with glee, “was planning to open a dog camp! Next summer! That’s what she was doing here all along, the little sneak—trying to find out about what they were like. She’d been to two others this year.”
    “Yeah,” Joy said vaguely. “That’s why she was getting people’s addresses. She asked us not to mention it, because Maxine might not understand. And Eva said she wasn’t inviting everybody—just a few people she liked.”
    I ignored Joy. “Ginny, where did you hear that?”
    “Oh, it’s definite. I talked to her brother-in-law, just now.
    Max gave me the sister’s phone number. Eva’d listed her sister as her emergency contact, and I had to arrange things about Bingo, not that they had much choice, but I wanted it settled.”
    “And?” I asked.
    “Oh, it’s going to cost me,” Ginny said, “but I was prepared for that all along. They’re not dog people—the sister and the brother-in-law—and no one else in the family is, either. They don’t want him. We settled for the purchase price. With me, you know, he’s been perfectly okay. The Haiti’s just in case he forgets who’s who. And I’ve been thinking: