Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

there when the Poodles they were exhibiting were born. They hadn’t watched them grow up; they didn’t live with them twenty-four hours a day. In some cases, they might have met the dog they were handling only minutes earlier.
    Eve and I had a bond that none of the other exhibitors in the ring could hope to emulate. We were accustomed to working together as a team. Each of us knew what the other was thinking.
    I reached down and chucked Eve under the chin. She tipped her head back and caught my eye. We shared a look and the same thought passed between us. We’d been showing together for eighteen months. It was time to get the job done.
    The judge was a woman named Charlotte Raines. I’d shown to her before and knew what she liked. When she made her first pass down the long line, I didn’t stack Eve as the other handlers were doing. Instead, making use of the extra room I’d gained by being at the end, I stepped back and let Eve choose her own balanced stance, then baited her naturally.
    Mrs. Raines’s gaze slid quickly down the line, examining dogs and handlers alike and making mental notes of the faces she had to deal with. She wasn’t a Poodle specialist but she judged the breed often and knew a good one when she got her hands on it. She appreciated the skill that went into a professional handling job, but she wasn’t likely to let the pros con her into thinking that their Poodles were better specimens than they actually were.
    In other words, she would reward an owner-handler for bringing her a good dog, but she’d make you work every single minute for the win.
    Fine, I thought. Eve and I were up to the task.
    The first go-around passed without incident. Mrs. Raines took note of Eve, which was good; but she also gazed favorably upon three or four other bitches. Even that early in the class, the contenders had begun to sort themselves out.
    As the judge began her individual examinations, most of the other handlers pulled back out of line and let their Poodles relax while they waited their turns. Another time I might have done the same; but not that day. There was too much at stake.
    Instead I left Eve standing on the rubber mat. The Poodle responded as I’d known she would. Her dark eyes fastened on the judge, watching her intently for several minutes. It was long enough to draw Mrs. Raines’s attention her way twice.
    I looked away, smiled to myself, and let Eve continue to work her magic.
    Here’s the thing. Eve was an excellent Standard Poodle, but with a four point major on the line, she wasn’t the only good one in the class. Gazing up the line, I could see several other bitches that were probably her equal. On a given day, any one of us might deserve to win the class. But I refused to let that knowledge intimidate me. Today was going to be our day.
    I believed it. Eve believed it. And that was half the battle right there.
    Slowly the line moved forward. When Eve’s attention began to flag, I pulled a little furry mouse out of my pocket and waved it enticingly under her nose. Immediately the Poodle’s head snapped up, and her neck arched. Her tail, already high over her back, waved stiffly to and fro.
    I gave the toy a small toss and Eve caught it on the fly. Before she could shake her head to “kill” the mouse, I snatched it back and held it up in the air. Eve stood at attention and woofed softly under her breath. Mrs. Raines glanced our way again.
    The best judges, those who really understand the breed standard, know that Poodles have to do more than just look good to win. They also have to display the intelligent and playful temperament that is such an integral part of the breed. Mrs. Raines had entered the ring expecting the Poodles to entertain her, and Eve was doing her part to comply.
    When our turn came to be individually examined, I walked Eve into a free stack and left her standing there on her own. Look Ma, no hands! I was telling the judge that I didn’t have to prop Eve up to make her appear correct. That this Poodle bitch was pretty special all on her own.
    Eve stood like she’d been cast in stone while Mrs. Raines conducted her examination. The judge ran her hands over the Poodle’s body, checking her bite, examining her bone structure, feeling for muscle tone. When she had finished, Mrs. Raines stepped back and asked us to gait a triangle pattern.
    Eve and I were at the top of our game. Not only did the judge watch us move, but I saw that the other handlers were taking