Stud Rites

to dogs and people. Regardless of species, it is important not to create more creatures than there are loving homes, and it is vital to understand that the decision to bring life into this world means a lifetime commitment. Harvard Square, for instance, has at least as many homeless, abandoned human beings as it does stray dogs; and parents, like responsible dog breeders, often end up getting adult offspring returned when promising placements unexpectedly fail to work out. Myself, I’d have deleted the usual bit about the role of castration in preventing prostate cancer and testicular tumors, and I’d have downplayed such presumably irrelevant behavioral benefits as a reduced incidence of indoor leg-lifting. Oh, and I’d have found it impossible to make the routine promise that Greg would never know the difference.
     

 
     
    DURING MY ABSENCE from the exhibition hall, the spectators had swollen in number. Now, in a fashion reminiscent of sociable protozoa, they teemed in a restless, bloblike colony around the ring. The heat of people, dogs, and fierce competition had raised the temperature by ten degrees. Enthroned on a parka-draped ringside lawn chair at the side of Victor Printz, Harriet Lunt kept her eyes on the judging. Her left arm rested in a makeshift sling. With her right hand, she shooed away would-be sympathizers. Out of the corner of her mouth, however, she murmured inaudible comments to Victor Printz. When I approached to ask how she was doing, she thanked me rather curtly for the help I’d given last night. Then, she hadn’t seemed to recognize me. By now, I thought, she’d remembered the eyes and ears of the AKC Gazette, seen through my taradiddle, and learned that she had, in fact, been assisted by Alaskan Malamute Rescue.
    ”You saw no one at all, is that right?” Harriet demanded of me in that deep-bass voice, her eyes boring into mine.
    No one, I assured her. Not a soul. As I moved away, Harriet muttered to Victor. I thought I heard her whisper Betty’s name.
    Soon thereafter, Harriet Lunt probably spoke my own. I know that she pointed me out. Detective Kari-otis told me so. He led me to the same overwhelmingly bright function room we’d been in before. This time, though, our interview was brief. And I didn’t make a fool of myself. I coldly explained why I’d been in the Lagoon in the middle of the night. ”The stuff I bought was scattered all over,” I reported. From the time I left my room until the moment I found Harriet Lunt, I said, I’d seen no one and heard nothing. When I’d come upon her, the door to the corridors had been closing. I hadn’t even seen a shadow. I barely knew Harriet Lunt. I had no idea why anyone would assault her. What did I know of the, uh, Dowager Marchioness of Denver? For a second, I thought Kariotis must be asking about a character in some book. Then it dawned on me—Elsa Van Dine. Like everyone else, I knew she’d been murdered. A fatal mugging and robbery on a street in Providence, I’d heard. I’d never met her and never corresponded with her. If Detective Kariotis wanted to know about the older generation, he should ask an old-timer. I was new to the breed.
    Throughout the interview, I desperately tried to conceal my impatience. With every succinct statement I made, I burned at the thought that as I spoke Leah and Kimi were in the ring. I elaborated on nothing and stuck to the facts of what I’d seen last night. Before long, Kariotis let me go.
    Bolting back to the hall, I found that I hadn’t, after all, missed Leah and Kimi. They had just entered the ring. Not far from them, a chunky woman fell to her knees in so genuflectory a manner that when she finished posing her bitch, stood up, and raised a finger, I expected her to make the sign of the cross. But the handler didn’t have a prayer. Ignoring a jerk on her collar, the bitch sneezed violently, bounced up and down, skittered around, and capped the performance by attempting to mount her handler. Out of sympathy, I looked away. From one corner of the ring, though, the uncaring eye of the video camera recorded the whole episode, which in a month or so would be available for viewing and reviewing by anyone who ordered the tape from the professional company hired to make our national specialty the unforgettable experience it truly was.
    I bought the tape and have repeatedly watched that display of naughtiness while fast-forwarding, stopping, and zipping on in search of the section that