Authors: Laurien Berenson

Dog Eat Dog (31 page)

BOOK: Dog Eat Dog

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Sam's tenure in the dog show world was shorter in duration than Aunt Peg's, but no less devoted. His Shadow-run Kennel was a small but select operation. Like my aunt, Sam had spent countless hours studying pedigrees, genetics, and the best available bloodlines. He was also a talented and enthusiastic dog show exhibitor.

Basically, in this group, I was the redheaded stepchild.

“Don't worry, Mom,” said Davey. “I don't know either.”

I reached over and plopped a few more marshmallows into his mug to thank him for the support.

“You don't need to know.” Aunt Peg slanted her nephew a fond glance. “Whereas you”âher gaze shifted in my directionâ“could be better informed.”

Nothing new there.

I sipped my cocoa and leaned back in my seat. “Why don't you tell me what I'm missing?”

“Edward March is nothing less than dog show royalty .”

“Like Prince William?” asked Davey. He had watched the royal wedding on television, fascinated less by the ceremony than by the vintage cars that transported the royal family.

“Not exactly,” Sam explained. “Prince William has a hereditary position. Edward March earned his acclaim. His Russet Kennel was started in the 1960s and soon became the driving force in Irish Setters. He was single-handedly responsible for dozens of champions in that breed throughout the second half of the last century. If there was an Irish Setter in the group or Best in Show ring anywhere on the East Coast, chances are it was a Russet dog.”

“Bob and Janie Forsyth handled all his dogs for many years,” said Aunt Peg. “Surely, you know who they are.”

Of course, I did. The esteemed husband-and-wife team was dogdom's most famous couple. As handlers, they'd all but ruled the sporting dog and terrier rings for decades before retiring to become highly respected judges. I had shown Eve under Janie Forsyth and picked up two points toward her championship.

“So he's a man who used to have good dogs,” I said. So far, this all sounded like old news.

“Not just good,” Aunt Peg corrected. “Some of the very best in his breed. And like his handlers, he followed up by becoming a very good judge. His opinion really meant something, and that's a rare gift. If Edward March put up your dog, you knew you had a good one.”

That was high praise coming from Aunt Peg. She didn't hand out accolades lightly.

“And?” I asked.

“And what? Isn't that enough?”

“It's plenty. But what does it have to do with me?”

“Oh, that.” Aunt Peg sniffed as if the change in topic from dog show royalty to her wayward niece was distinctly uninteresting.

“Now you've got me curious too,” said Sam. “So March is turning in his judge's license. Where does Melanie fit in?”

“Apparently, in celebration of his fifty-some years in the dog show world, Edward intends to write his memoirs. Anyone who's ever seen his desk could tell you that organization isn't his strong suit. He's looking to find a coauthor to help him do the job properly. I told him I knew just the right person.”

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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8994-0

BOOK: Dog Eat Dog

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