Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

lowered their noses to the ground to sniff out likely spots. I hoped everyone had remembered to bring baggies for cleanup.
    Faith and Ginger were eager to stretch their legs. When we came to a small meadow, dotted here and there by picnickers and mothers with small children, Allison reached down and unfastened Ginger’s lead. Bill pulled out a tennis ball and gave it a toss. The Brittany went flying across the grass after it.
    Faith watched the action and whined softly under her breath. I could understand her desire to run, but I wasn’t at all sure I liked the idea of turning her loose. A glance at the others seemed to confirm my feelings of trepidation.
    Yoda was on the ground for once, but Lisa had a tight hold on her slender leash. Ditto Dorothy and MacDuff. Ben, so eager to set Brando free in an enclosed room, seemed to have no intention of doing so here.
    “Can I touch?” asked a small voice.
    I turned back and saw a girl of perhaps three, her chubby hand extended toward Faith’s nose. The Poodle was bigger than she was, but the child showed no fear. Her mother grasped the little girl’s other hand firmly.
    “That’s a Poodle, right?” she said. “Taylor loves Poodles, but we’ve never seen one that big before. Is she like a super-size, or what?”
    And so the fun began.

18
    A fter that initial, tentative approach, Faith and I were seldom alone for more than a few minutes at a time. I’d bathed the Poodle and blown her dry the previous evening and even though her trim was nothing fancy by dog show standards, its precise lines and plush look drew a lot of favorable attention. After the fifth person in a row asked me how I got the pom pon on Faith’s tail so perfectly round, I began to think that I should have printed up answer cards to hand out.
    “Having fun?” asked Doug, coming over to see how we were doing.
    Several hours had already passed. During that time, I’d been acutely aware of Doug and the other judges, wandering among the members of our group, observing the interactions, and surreptitiously taking notes. Meanwhile Charlie was busy snapping pictures, recording the day’s events for what, no doubt, would be further discussion and dissection by the committee.
    I’m normally not a self-conscious person but being the object of that kind of intense scrutiny had quickly led to paranoia. Though I’d devoted a decent amount of energy to promoting Faith, it was clear that I was neither as outgoing nor as motivated as some of the other contestants. Nor was I about to change my ways in an effort to keep up.
    Ben continued to work the area effortlessly; drawing attention to himself seemed to come naturally. Dorothy, meanwhile, had mastered the consummate handler’s trick of fading into the background and letting her dog shine. The Reddings played in the meadow with Ginger, the three of them gamboling in the grass like there was nothing else in the world that they’d rather be doing. Only Lisa looked strained and wary when people loomed above her little Yorkie and gushed about how cute she was. She seemed to dislike all the fuss and public adulation just as much as I did.
    When Doug approached me, I was more than ready to take a break. Being center stage was a wearying experience. Even at dog shows, we’d never had to be “on” for hours at a time. Now both of us were beginning to feel the strain.
    “Some of it’s fun,” I replied honestly in answer to Doug’s question. “But it’s hard work, too.”
    “I’m sorry if you expected differently.” He motioned toward a bench in the shade beneath a large elm tree and Faith and I followed him there. As the three of us got settled, Doug continued to talk.
    “We on the committee spent quite a lot of time considering just that very issue before we initiated the contest. It’s one thing to hire a ‘professional’ dog to represent a product. Those dogs and their handlers know exactly what to expect from a job like this. They’ve seen the hard work that goes on behind the surface glamor, and that makes them easier to work with. But it also means that you lose the personal connection that comes with dealing with somebody’s real pet.”
    “You also forfeit the free publicity that a contest like this is able to generate in the media.”
    “There’s that, too,” Doug agreed. “At any rate, Faith seems to be handling things well. Better, I’d venture to say, than some of the others. She really is a people dog, isn’t she?”
    That