Brute Strength (15 page)

‘Go ahead and take the test,' I told Gabrielle. ‘Molly did beautifully on everything else. Besides, that exercise is about coming when called. It isn't supposed to require a perfect stay. For a dog who used to be carried a lot, she's doing just great.'

The next morning, I continued the pep talk as we drove to the match, which was at a park, playground, and picnic area on the banks of the Charles River in Newton. Although Steve was driving my car and I was in the front passenger seat, I didn't turn around to address Gabrielle, whose face now looked as if she had just spent a day in the sun at the equator while suffering from a ghastly disease. The previous day's rain had given way to brilliant sun. Besides slathering herself in sunscreen, she'd borrowed a Red Sox cap from Steve to shield her face. Her skin and the cap were the identical shade of bright red. Out of her hearing, Steve had said, ‘It's like her head is on fire,' but she truly wasn't vain and hadn't even considered staying home.

I then launched into a lecture on setting your own goal when you enter any event, but when I'd barely begun, Steve and Gabrielle interrupted me by laughing. ‘I guess you've heard it before,' I said meekly.

‘Once or twice,' Steve said.

‘But you're perfectly right,' said Gabrielle. ‘So, my goal is . . . not to trip over my own feet.'

‘Mine,' I said, ‘is to make sure that everyone entered in Prenovice A gets hooked on showing in obedience and leaves my ring wanting more.'

The Prenovice A class is for rank-beginner handlers. All exercises are performed on leash, so there's no chance that an exuberant dog will go flying around or zoom out of the ring. The class is supposed to be fun, and I intended to see that it was. So, I was looking forward to judging, all the more so when we drove into the parking lot, which was so incredibly crowded that for a second, I imagined that the challenging sport of dog obedience was experiencing a sudden and inexplicable surge in popularity. As it turned out, a local software outfit was holding a company barbecue in the picnic area, and the sunshine and warm weather had drawn families with children to the playground, as well as runners, walkers, and birders to the trails that ran through the park. Still, dog people were there in decent numbers, and more would be arriving. Some were at a table registering for the match and the CGC test, some were setting up the rings, and some were hanging around with one another and with their dogs. Because Steve and I needed to check the conditions of our rings and to speak with our stewards before the judging began, we introduced Gabrielle to a couple of people at the registration table and left her there. The crimson splotchiness of her countenance was more startling than ever in the bright morning light, but she seemed unselfconscious. Several people said how cute Molly was, and even before I left, Gabrielle had hooked up with two other handlers whose dogs were also going to take the CGC, so I felt not at all guilty about leaving her on her own in an unfamiliar environment.

The baby-gated rings had been set up in the middle of a big field that was obviously used for baseball and soccer. Dutiful person that I am, I paced off my ring and took a close look for bumps or holes that might trip a handler and for objects that might distract dogs. Then I spent a few minutes with my stewards, two young women I'd never met before. ‘Smile!' I said. ‘We want everyone to have fun.'

Finally, clipboard in hand, my score sheets fastened to it, I was ready for my first team, a thin, pale young man with a young black Lab. The dog was a little wiggly and hyper, but they left my ring happy. Next were a girl of sixteen or so and an apricot toy poodle; then a short, wide woman with a pug; a woman with another black Lab; a thin young woman with a golden retriever who had more potential than his handler did; and a man in khaki with a German short-haired pointer. Even my simple L-shaped heeling pattern was a challenge; and the handlers and the dogs lacked the focus and polish that come, if at all, with experience; but the performances were surprisingly good, and I was having a great time.

When Vanessa and Ulla entered the ring, I smiled as I'd done at everyone else and asked the mandatory judge's question: ‘Are you ready?' An amazing number of beginners answer that question without even glancing at their dogs; instead of sitting attentively in heel position at the handler's left side, the dog can be twisted around staring into space, and the handler will say, ‘Yes!'

But Vanessa had been taught well. When she looked at Ulla and said, ‘Ready,' the glint in Ulla's eyes told me that she heard the word as cue to fix her attention on Vanessa.

‘Forward!' I said.

Great heeling, the ultimate test of teamwork, is incredibly difficult for handlers and dogs. Vanessa made a lot of beginner's mistakes. She should've kept the leash loose, and her changes of pace were awkward and strange. When I said, ‘Slow pace,' she barely slowed down, but her fast pace was a sudden gallop that caught Ulla off guard and got her overexcited; and Ulla kept sniffing at Vanessa's left hand for food that wasn't there. But Ulla's stand for examination was quite good; and on the recall, she not only responded but sat straight directly in front of Vanessa, and she did a smooth finish that put her in correct heel position at Vanessa's side. Vanessa left the ring beaming.

When I'd judged my total entry of ten dogs, I called everyone back for the group exercises, the long sit and the long down. In beautiful, lovely, relaxing Prenovice, the leashes stay on, and the handlers remain close to the dogs. On the long sit, the wiggly young Lab broke after about two seconds, thus inspiring three other dogs to do the same. The steadiest dog was the little apricot poodle, who also made it all the way through the three minutes of the long down, during which time the shorthair held perfectly still, too, as did – wouldn't you know – a Border collie. Ulla rolled onto her back and waved her paws in the air, but she refrained from crawling around or rising to her feet.

‘Exercise finished,' I said.

The handlers and dogs left the ring to await the results. I took a seat at the little card table by the gate to add up the scores. When I'd finished, one of my stewards checked my addition, and then we called the dogs and handlers back into the ring. Turning to face the small group of spectators, I noticed Tom, Hatch, and Avery, who'd probably been there all the time. Projecting my voice, I gave the standard little speech that obedience judges deliver on such occasions. I said that this was the Prenovice A obedience class, that the maximum number of points required for a perfect score was two hundred, that every dog and every handler who'd participated today represented the future of our wonderful sport, and so on. Then I announced the placements and scores, and presented the ribbons, which fluttered happily in the light breeze. The little apricot poodle was in first place. Second was the Border collie. Ulla was third, and the German shorthair was fourth. The club sponsoring the match had provided little trophies, attractive glass paperweights, that I gave out, too, as I shook hands with each handler and received thanks . . . from everyone except Vanessa, who merely nodded at me and didn't return my smile. Maybe I was naive, but it never crossed my mind that she was angry or disappointed. This was Vanessa and Ulla's first time in any obedience ring, and for a first-time handler with what is euphemistically called a ‘nontraditional' obedience breed, a third place was more than decent. So, I assumed that some unhappy incident had occurred while I'd been focused exclusively on judging. Had Ulla had an altercation with another dog? Had Tom, Hatch, or Avery said or done something to upset Vanessa?

I had no chance to find out. The young woman – a girl, really – with the apricot poodle wanted to tell me that showing in obedience hadn't been half so scary as she'd expected. In return, I told her that she and her dog were really going to go places. Then, as the handlers were picking up their score sheets and moving away, I thanked my stewards and headed off to find Gabrielle. Predictably, she and Molly were in the center of a congenial group near the refreshment table.

Gabrielle looked so happy that I didn't hesitate to ask, ‘How'd you do?'

‘We flunked the Sit and Down on Command and Staying in Place. She just would not stay. All she wanted to do was come to me. It was all my fault. I knew we had ten minutes before our turn, so I ran back to the car to get the special liver treats for when we were done –' Steve had given her the key to my car – ‘and I took just two little minutes to brush Molly, and then I was afraid we'd be late, so we went flying back, and I'm sure I threw her off. But she did everything else right, didn't you, Molly?'

‘She is just adorable,' said one of Gabrielle's new friends.

‘And she knows it, too!' someone else added.

‘Vanessa!' Gabrielle called out. ‘Congratulations! And you, too, Ulla. Ulla, CGC.'

Vanessa hung back, but Tom, Avery, and Hatch approached, and Gabrielle greeted everyone. ‘I'm not contagious,' she said. ‘It's just dermatology.' She was more fiery red than ever. ‘I should put my hat back on.'

‘We'd better get you out of the sun,' I said. ‘Steve should be finishing up. Let me go check.'

‘You're welcome to stay and have lunch with us,' Hatch offered. ‘All of you. There's plenty.'

‘Fried chicken,' said Avery, who sounded and even looked more animated than usual. For once, her hair wasn't lank, and she was wearing a cheerful yellow sweater. ‘Enough for everyone.'

‘A few slices of poached chicken for me,' said her grandfather. ‘I cannot tolerate anything fried.'

‘Avery is an excellent cook,' Vanessa said.

I'd have been glad to accept the invitation, but Gabrielle said, ‘Oh, we just can't! I'm sorry. We have plans.' Directing a knowing look at me, she continued, ‘In fact, Holly, you'd better go run and see whether Steve's done. We don't want to be late, do we?'

Late for scraping paint? In case my face gave me away, I took off for the ring where Steve was handing out the ribbons in Open B. Because he's often serious, it's always a special pleasure to see him having fun. As is a fact of his life wherever he is, the eyes of all the women in the ring were on Steve, whose blue-green eyes were on the dogs. There's an old saying that it's as easy to love a beautiful dog as it is to love a homely one. Well, it's as easy to love a handsome man as it is to love a homely one, too.

As I waited, Ron from my club came up to me and said, ‘We need to talk about doing something in Isaac's memory.'

‘A trophy, maybe,' I said. ‘Let me ask Elizabeth.'

‘For the highest scoring puli in our fall trial,' Ron said.

‘Or maybe a trophy for Beginner Novice A. Isaac would've liked something to encourage beginners. Let's see what Elizabeth says. But we do need to do something.'

When Steve was free, we headed back to find Gabrielle. On the way, I told him about the picnic invitation and warned him about Gabrielle's refusal. ‘She said that we had plans, so don't contradict her.'

‘Huh. That's not like her. What's up?'

‘I have no idea. But she's beet red, so it's probably a good idea to get her indoors. Oh, and Molly didn't get her CGC. But that's not why Gabrielle wants to leave. She's being a model of good sportsmanship about it.'

When we reached Gabrielle, Vanessa and her family had left. Steve, Gabrielle, and I, with Molly trotting happily along, made our way to my car. As Gabrielle was crating Molly in the back, I glanced across the parking lot, which was less crowded than it had been when we'd arrived. Parked in a far corner was a midnight-blue van.

‘Steve,' I said. ‘You see that van over there? The big blue one. What kind is it?'

‘A Dodge. It's a Dodge Ram panel van.'

‘I'll be right back,' I said.

‘Panel van' apparently meant a vehicle that looked like a delivery truck, as it did. The side I could see had a passenger window but no other side windows and none in the back. I took brisk steps toward the van, but before I got close, it suddenly began to move and then headed to the exit from the lot and disappeared. I hadn't been close enough to read the license plate or see the driver. Even so, I had the feeling that I'd seen that same van before.

EIGHTEEN

G
abrielle's white lie about our plans for the afternoon made it impossible for me to carry out my actual plan: if I climbed high on the extension ladder, I'd be plainly visible from the front of Vanessa's house. Furthermore, we couldn't walk dogs without running the risk of encountering Vanessa, Tom, Hatch, or Avery.

Over tuna sandwiches at our kitchen table, I asked, ‘Why didn't you want to share their picnic?'

Gabrielle hesitated, took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and finally said, ‘Vanessa is just a little too interested in Buck.'

‘What?'

‘Go ahead and laugh! But she is.'

‘She's met him exactly once.'

‘She asks about him.'

‘She asked about you before you got here.'

‘It's the way she does it. There's a little gleam in that woman's eye. And something about her tone of voice.'

Steve said, ‘Buck isn't interested in her. You've got nothing to worry about.'

In unison, Gabrielle and I said, ‘That's not the point!'

‘But,' I added, ‘I think that you're imagining things.'

‘I'm not. And I'll tell you something else. That young woman, Avery, takes an unhealthy interest in her brother.'

‘You must kidding,' I said.

‘While you were off judging, I spent some time with them. She sidles up to him. She flirts with him.'