Best in Show by Laurien Berenson Page B

standard is exactly the same for all three varieties except in one aspect: size. Toy Poodles are those that stand ten inches or under, measured at the highest point of the shoulder. Minis are between ten and fifteen inches. Standard Poodles are those that are taller than fifteen. Any Poodle that doesn’t fall within those parameters is disqualified from competition.
    In theory, a Poodle that is oversize for its variety can be shown in the next larger division. But practically speaking, that simply doesn’t work. Fair or not, bigger is considered to be better in the dog show ring and bigger is what wins.
    For the most part, Toy Poodles that become champions usually stand within a quarter inch on either side of that ten-inch mark. Winning Minis are seldom less than fourteen and a half inches; the majority are taller. And since breeders breed for Poodles that are “right up to size,” exhibitors tend to push those limits to the breaking point.
    That was where the size disqualification became a factor. A judge who felt that a Poodle being shown to him didn’t fall within the size parameters for its variety, could call for the wicket and take a measurement in the ring. If the judge was correct, the dog was disqualified. Three disqualifications from three different judges resulted in the Poodle being barred from competition permanently.
    Many judges refused to measure at all, especially since those who were known to be sticklers for size usually drew smaller entries. Other judges preferred to eyeball the participants, making their own estimation of eligibility rather than performing an official measurement. However you looked at it, the fact that someone was spreading the rumor that Bubba was oversize couldn’t help but be damaging.
    â€œIs he over?” I asked. Anyone who had shown for any length of time had been faced with the prospect of finishing one that grew bigger than anticipated. It was luck of the draw as much as anything else that made a puppy fall just under the disqualification line rather than just over.
    â€œNo, Bubba’s just in. Fortunately. He was measured twice after that,” said Edith Jean. “Both judges got the wicket over him with no problem. Next thing we knew, somebody told Roger word’s going around that Bubba’s been dyed.”
    Another potentially disqualifying act. If it could be proven. I found myself frowning. This all sounded like a great deal of commotion to go through over the show career of one small Toy Poodle puppy.
    â€œHow did you know Harry was the one who was behind all the rumors?”
    â€œDog people talk,” said Edith Jean. “You probably know that for yourself. First time around, we figured it was probably a disgruntled competitor. But the second time rumors started flying, Roger got mad and did some digging. Again and again, Harry Gandolf’s name kept popping up. I don’t mind telling you that Sister was getting pretty steamed about the whole situation. And she had a bit of a temper, that gal.”
    As if Edith Jean didn’t.
    â€œJust yesterday afternoon, when Harry was hanging around the show schmoozing with everybody, Sister looked at me and said, ‘If that man doesn’t back off and leave our puppy alone, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.’ And she was serious about it, too.”
    And now she was dead, I thought.
    What were the chances that that was a coincidence?

8
    T he first person I ran into when I got back to the hotel was Aunt Peg.
    I’d parked my car and taken Eve inside through the lobby, which was unexpectedly crowded. After a moment, I realized why. The morning’s symposium, held in a meeting room that opened off the entryway, was just ending. Aunt Peg was standing in the doorway as people left, handing out questionnaires for feedback, accepting congratulations for a job well done, and basking in Mary Ludlow Scott’s reflected glory.
    I sidled over to where she