I don’t want to look. I know what I’m going to see.
Forcing a swallow, I quietly ask, “How bad is it?”
My green eyes meet my cousin’s bright blue ones, and as much as I love dogs, as much as they’re all good dogs, her dismay tests my resolve.
Mav is still holding my arm as we step forward to where Haddy is standing with her hands over her mouth.
“You buzzed his butt,” Mav observes drily.
Sure enough, the two pom poms, the hallmark of thecontinental style, are destroyed. The one I was working on is shaved in half, and the one I had just finished has a very neat, two-inch wide path cut clear through the middle.
“Oh, nooo!” My hands are on my cheeks.
“Get down, Ladybird,” Owen orders. “You know better than to bolt like that. I’m sorry, Gina. I don’t know what got into her.”
He’s standing there, biceps flexing as he pulls his bloodhound away with all his strength. Spanky’s tongue is out, and it looks very much like he’s smiling. He has no idea the damage that’s been done to his award-winning derriere.
“It’s ruined.” The words slip from my lips on a soft wail.
My body is weak, and I see the Best in Show prize slipping away like a sheet of paper out the window, into the air, down the street, and…gone.
Even if his pom poms could grow back in time, it won’t matter if we don’t win this weekend. And if we don’t win the LA regional competition, there’s no way we’re going to Pennsylvania.
“What is it?” Owen frowns, walking over to where the three of us are standing. “Are you hurt?”
Maverick’s arms are crossed, and one of his hands is fisted in front of his mouth. I know my golden-retriever cousin is doing his best not to laugh. If I didn’t care so much, it probably would be funny. Maybe one day it will be. What’s the formula?Tragedy plus time equals comedy?
Haddy’s hand is on my back making slow circles. Her eyes are round and empathetic.
“Oh, shit.” Owen puts a hand on top of his head. “It’s not supposed to look like that, is it.”
It’s not a question, and all I can do is shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
“Is there anything I can do?” At least our handsome new roommate has manners.
“Not unless you can grow dog fur in three days.” My tone is flat, and I’m doing my best not to cry.
“It’s okay, though, right Geeg?” Mav puts a large hand on my shoulder. “There’ll be another dog show in a few months, and Spanky can show ‘em who’s the prissiest poodle in town at that one!”
My head moves in a combination of nods and shakes. Yes, there will be another dog show, but no, it won’t be in time for us to enter the national competition.
That bird has flown… or been shaved?
“I’m sorry, honey.” Haddy’s hand is now on my shoulder, and I’m pretty sure I’m still in shock. “I wish I could do something.”
Mav frowns, still in problem-solving mode. “Can’t you just shave them off? Not every poodle has puff balls on their butts.”
I walk over to unfasten Spanky’s harnass from the leash. His perfectly combed top knot is now sticky and matted with bloodhound drool, and I can tell my good boy is dying to run around in the grass with his new doggie bestie.
Sure enough, the second he’s free, the two of them bolt out the door into our small yard.
“I’ve never been able to train her.” Owen’s tone is all apologies.
I nod. It’s true.
“Bloodhounds are notoriously hard to train,” I say quietly. “They’re guided by their noses.”
Ladybird’s nose brought her straight to her new friend.
