Paws before dying

shepherd bitch who has her C.D.X.—Companion Dog Excellent—and with good scores, too. He knew what I meant. “It’s real boring when that happens.”
    “So you know how people say that some of those people really would do anything ? I’ve said it myself. So people are saying that, and maybe this time, it isn’t just... It’s possible that this time, someone did. Nobody who doesn’t show dogs would believe that anyone would do something like that, but if you do, then you know, honest to God, it is possible.”
    “There’ve been a couple of cases where dogs were poisoned: at shows.”
    “But those were all in breed, weren’t they? Because in breed, if you killed the handler, the owner would just hire someone | else. Or if you killed the owner, someone else would go on showing the dog. It wouldn’t do you any good to kill a person. But in obedience, your real competition isn’t the person or the dog.
    It’s the team. But I just can’t see obedience people doing it. In breed, the dogs are more like objects—but obedience? So maybe a rare person, a really competitive handler, will do something awful, like step on your dog’s toes.”
    “Jesus!”
    “But I really think that most obedience people would rather kill a person than a dog. And besides, it isn’t the dogs anyone resents. It’s the handlers.”
    “Is there some particular handler you have in mind?”
    “Yes,” I said. “Heather Ross. You know who she is.”
    “Silver hair? With the silver standard poodle.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Rose Engleman was that much of a threat to her?”
    “Well, probably from her point of view. For one thing, Rose also had poodles, and they’d been sort of archrivals for years. Poodle people are always so competitive. They have such high standards, because poodles can be such incredible obedience dogs. Malamute people aren’t like that, not in obedience.”
    He laughed.
    “Well, okay. In obedience, we practically never even see each other, especially around here. The only malamutes you ever see in obedience around here are mine, but the point is, I wouldn’t, and other malamute people wouldn’t, either, because they obviously aren’t the world’s greatest obedience dogs.”
    “Misery loves company,” he said.
    “It’s sort of true. When I see that someone’s put a U.D. on a mal—yes, it actually has been done—I feel grateful that somebody proved it’s possible, and I know how much agony went into it. But there are millions of poodles in obedience, and they aren’t as easy to train as people say. You have to work hard, and then even when your dog is really good, you’ve got lots of competition. With a poodle, anything below one ninety or one ninety-five is a disgrace, or that’s what they think, which is why they’re the people you see painting the backs of their shoes to match the dog.”
    “What?”
    “It’s an old trick. If you think the dog’s going to sit a little crooked, and you’ve got a black dog, you make sure the backs of your shoes are black, so the judge won’t notice if the sit’s a little off. I don’t do that, but with Rowdy, I always wear a dark skirt, and I never wear anything with a line down the front, a row of buttons or anything the judge could use to line up on and see if he sits just slightly crooked. That’s fair enough. It’s not like taping a hunk of raw liver to your left thigh.”
    “Jesus!”
    “You laugh! People do it. Anyway, how did we end up talking about dogs? Here’s what I know about Heather. First of all, since she’d known Rose for years, she probably knew she had a pacemaker. I didn’t see Rose all that often, but Heather did, since they both belong to Nonantum. Rose was showing the signs of some kind of heart trouble and then was in the hospital and then got better, so Heather must’ve known. Second, obviously, she benefits. She’s already started planning a memorial trophy that she can win. It’s disgusting. And the other thing is that according to the people who live across the street from the park, lightning didn’t strike there. They were home. And they say it didn’t hit. So what did? It’s raining. Rose is probably standing in a puddle of water. She has a pacemaker. She reaches out and touches the gate, and it’s metal. And something happens.”
    “And? You don’t sound like you’re done.”
    “And, look. Heather isn’t the only one who gained, and with the pacemaker, Rose was vulnerable, more vulnerable than most people.