The Dogfather

14
     
    Angry doesn’t begin to say it. Nor does mortified. Spotting Al Favuzza, Zap, and the twins outside a nearby ring, I hauled Rowdy over to them and spat out, “We need to talk, and we need to talk right now. Not here. Outside.”
    With the gang of gangsters trailing behind, I led Rowdy through the aisle to the exit, where I dutifully showed his entry form before hurrying through. Technically, the parking lot was on show grounds, but the ground outdoors felt less AKC-hallowed than did the interior of the trade center. The standard penalty for hollering at spectators (“Offense II, Disorderly Conduct, b. Abusive or foul language/verbal altercation”) was a one-month suspension and a $500 fine, far milder than the punishment for attempting to influence a judge, but I didn’t want to run any risks. We went all the way across the asphalt to a narrow, ugly strip of weeds bordering a rusty chain-link fence.
    “Angry doesn’t begin to say it,” I told Al Favuzza, clearly the leader of the pack as well as the one I’d seen speaking to Harry Howland. “This is unbelievable!” As if to illustrate my sentiment, Rowdy lifted his leg on the fence and emptied his full bladder. The deserving object wasn’t the unobjectionable fence. It was Al Favuzza.
    “Some people don’t know what’s good for ’em,” Favuzza said.
    “I know perfectly well what is and isn’t good for me! I make my living in the world of dogs, and it's a damned small living as it is, and what I do not need is to lose my AKC privileges or pay a huge fine or have my reputation ruined forever, and I cannot imagine what you thought you were doing or why you thought you were doing it, but one thing I can tell you is that this is never going to happen again, because I won’t allow it. I have never been so mortified in my entire life. Do you realize that I know just about every person who was in or near that ring today?” Abruptly changing my tone of voice, I said, “Rowdy. I am not yelling at you. You are a good boy.”
    “Hey,” said Favuzza, “it’s only a dog show."
    “ONLY? ONLY? It’s only a place where I know everyone and everyone knows me. I have been showing dogs since before I was born”—true, in utero—“and I intend to keep on showing dogs until I keel over in the ring, and when that happens, I would like it to happen because I’ve died of old age and not because I’ve died of embarrassment and humiliation and goddamned disbelief the way I practically did today.”
    Having been informed that he was not the subject of my tirade, Rowdy took an intelligent interest in it. That’s more than can be said for Guarini’s henchmen. Rowdy’s beautiful almond-shaped eyes focused on me with fascination. In a canine enactment of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , he’d’ve made a brilliant Puck: What fools these mortals be!
    “Do you have something to say for yourselves?” I demanded. “If you’re at a loss for words, you could start by apologizing.”
    To my surprise, it was Zap who replied. “Joey’d uh done a better job.”
    “Of what?” I tried to ask, but Favuzza drowned me out by saying, “Zap, shut up. Joey’s dead. How could he’ve done a better job when he’s dead?”
    The horrible twins shuffled their feet and emitted subhuman grunts apparently intended to express approval of Favuzza’s wit.
    “Yeah, well,” Favuzza continued, “there’s more dog shows. Hey, kid gloves is always a big mistake, so let’s forget about today. Next time it’s all going to work out.”
    “Next time? Next time?" I was beside myself. “There is going to be no next time. All of a sudden, I see everything, okay? What we’re having here is a series of miscommunications. I am not upset because Rowdy lost today. For one thing, he lost to a really good dog. It’s no shame to lose to Mr. Wookie. And for another thing, anyone who can’t stand to lose shouldn’t be showing dogs at all because no one wins all the time, and I of all people know that, so what I’m upset about, what I’m, uh, practically speechless about, is that you saw fit to jeopardize my good standing in my sport and my friendship with Mary Wood and my goddamned honesty by threatening an American Kennel Club judge who just so happens to be someone I’ve known my entire life and who is forever after going to think I’m a sleaze and a cheat. And that’s what I’m so-called upset about!”
    “We were only trying to do you a favor,” Favuzza said.
    “A favor?