should take one look at that dog and fall in love.â
âI know,â Davey replied. My child is fearless when it comes to competition. I have no idea where he gets that kind of confidence from. It certainly isnât from me. âAunt Peg told me the same thing.â
âThen itâs a done deal,â Terry agreed. âThe Almighty has spoken.â
Luckily for all of us, Aunt Peg was up at ringside. Otherwise we never would have heard the end of that .
When we arrived at the ring, the Standard Bred-By-Exhibitor Dog was being judged. Sam fastened on Daveyâs armband. I checked to make sure he had bait. Kev and Davey bumped fists for luck. Augie did his part: he stood there and looked gorgeous.
Davey entered the ring first when the Open Dog class was called and took Augie to the head of the line. It was a spot he never relinquished. Showing with poise and skill that belied his age, he deftly showed off all of Augieâs good points and minimized his weaknesses. It helped, too, that dog and handler were best friends. Together they made a formidable team.
Standing beside me, Aunt Peg sighed. âHeâs got the touch. I could turn that child into a star.â
âNot going to happen,â I told her firmly.
âSo you say. . . .â
The point wasnât worth debating. At least not now, when Mr. Hawkins was motioning the line of dogs around the ring for the last time and Augie and Davey were still in front. A minute later, Davey had stuffed the blue ribbon into his pocket and moved quickly back onto the mat to form a new line. The winners of the previous two dog classes reentered the ring and fell in behind him.
Mr. Hawkins gave this new group a cursory look. He already knew what he wanted. Quickly he sent the Poodles around the ring again. As he pointed to Augie, I leapt in the air and let out a whoop.
Davey is usually embarrassed by that kind of parental display, but now he was too happy about the win to care. When Augie sensed his handlerâs excitement and jumped up too, Davey caught the big Poodle in his arms. He hurried across the ring, and dropped Augie gently down beside the Winners marker.
âDavey winning! Davey winning!â Kevin cried. A quick move on Samâs part prevented the excited toddler from running into the ring to stand with his older brother next to the stewardâs table.
A moment later, the triumphant pair joined us outside the ring. Davey was clutching the coveted purple ribbon in his hand. He had a dazed look on his face.
âDid that really happen?â he asked.
âIt did indeed,â Aunt Peg told him. She took Augieâs leash and moved the Poodle to one side so he wouldnât get messed up before the Best of Variety judging. âThat was well done.â
Praise from Aunt Peg was a rare and precious commodity. Davey flushed with pleasure and ducked his head to hide a jubilant grin.
Sam was studying the catalog. âThree points,â he said. âThe major held. Thatâs your first.â
âAnd itâs only the beginning,â Aunt Peg announced.
Fortunately I was too busy savoring the moment to argue.
Chapter 5
A fter the busy weekend weâd had, Monday morning came all too early.
Since rejoining the teaching staff at Howard Academy at the beginning of the semester, I had been working three days a week. My tutoring sessions were scheduled virtually back to back on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and I already felt like I was always playing catch-up. Now that the task of managing the Christmas bazaar had landed in my lap too, I was pretty sure that Iâd be lucky to see daylight before the end of the week.
Howard Academy is situated on a hilltop just north of downtown Greenwich. The original school building, once the sumptuous, early-twentieth-century mansion of founding siblings Joshua and Honoria Howard, sits at the end of a long, meandering driveway. Constructed of stone and built to last,