––––––––
Biscuit was soon back with news of his search, but Honey found it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. She kept thinking miserably of Ruffster’s words and the way he had snarled at her. He had never done that before. They had had fights before, of course—all good friends had them—but never like this. Now she didn’t even know where he had gone off to.
“Honey? Are you listening?”
“Sorry!” Honey refocused on Biscuit. “I didn’t catch that last part.”
“There were two scents in the Peemail,” said Biscuit patiently again. “They were really faint, but I picked them up. One I couldn’t work out at all—but the other one, I tracked it to a door in the side wall of the arena, quite near the crate area.”
“The door that led outside?” asked Honey quickly.
“No, not that side door. There’s another door next to it. I think it’s a storeroom,” Biscuit said. “I couldn’t get in so I tried to pick up the scent again. I’ve been all over arena, but—” he sighed, “—there are too many people and dogs here. The scent just got lost in the crowd.”
“Could you tell what kind of scent it was?”
Biscuit furrowed his brow. “Black. Burnt. Sticks in your throat. Makes you cough.” He hesitated. “I think I’ve smelled it in chimneys before.”
“There’s no chimney in the arena,” said Suka. “What about—”
A sudden commotion made them all look up. People were running towards the other end of the arena, talking excitedly. In the distance, they could hear the sounds of shouting and snarling and growling.
“That sounds like a dog fight!” cried Suka.
“Yes, and it seems to be coming from my crate area,” said Anja, coming up to join them. Behind her, Olivia and the Breeder peered across the arena, eyes anxious. Then someone began shrieking.
“Howling Hyenas, this sounds serious!” said Suka.
The humans grabbed their leashes and started running for the other end of the arena, pushing their way through the crowds that were also surging in that direction. When they arrived on the scene, they were astonished to see a group of people struggling to separate two dogs. One of the dogs was Ferrari and the other dog was Ruffster! He had the young Cocker Spaniel by the scruff of his neck and was growling and dragging him around.
“Let him go! Let him go!” shrieked a woman, flapping her hands at the dogs. Honey recognised her as the woman who had been trying to hand-feed Ferrari some roast chicken yesterday. She swung her handbag, trying to hit Ruffster with it, but missed and hit the head of the man next to her instead.
“Oomph!” The man pitched forwards and landed on the floor, dropping the plastic bones and rubber toys he had been holding. He must be Ferrari’s Chew Toy Therapist, Honey thought.
Another man tried to grab Ferrari and pull him away from Ruffster. “Let go of him, you mangy mongrel!” he yelled, raising his leg as if to kick Ruffster.
“Hey! Don’t you kick my dog!” Ruffster’s Guy arrived on the scene. He rushed up to the man and shoved him away.
The woman screamed. People shouted. The Chew Toy Therapist tried to get up, but someone stepped on his head. Ruffster’s Guy slipped and fell on his bum. Olivia lunged for Ruffster at the same time as the Breeder and they smacked their heads together. Suka’s Boy tried to grab Ruffster’s tail. Another man rushed in, tripped over the handbag, and fell on top of Ruffster’s Guy, who toppled back over the poor Chew Toy Therapist who went down again. Dogs ran around them all barking and howling.
It was total mayhem.
Finally, they managed to get Ruffster to let go of Ferrari’s scruff. It took a lot of convincing. Ruffster might have been a mongrel, but he had a lot of terrier in his blood and, as everybody knows, terriers never give up.
“I’m going to sue you for this!” screamed the woman. “I’m going to report you! He’s a monster! He ought to be muzzled! Attacking my poor little Ferrari-BooBoo like that!”
“Hey, lady, Ruffster’s a good dog. If he attacked your dog, he must have a good reason,” Ruffster’s Guy said. “Anyway, your dog looks fine to me. Ruffster obviously wasn’t trying to hurt him—maybe just teach him a lesson. Maybe your pup needed it.”
They all looked at Ferrari. Ruffster’s Guy was right. The young Cocker Spaniel was completely unharmed. Ruffster must have just grabbed him by the loose skin at his neck—the same way mother dogs disciplined their pups. Ferrari didn’t even look scared. Just sulky.
“How dare you!” shrieked the woman. “Ferrari doesn’t need to be disciplined. He is perfect!”
Honey turned to look at Ruffster as the humans continued arguing. Her friend was looking a bit sheepish now.
“For kibble’s sake, Ruffster, what were you doing?” Honey asked.
“I caught him,” said Ruffster. “Caught him skulkin’ around behind Anja’s crate. I knew he was up to no good. Probably like the time he put poison in her food—”
“Hey, I didn’t poison her!” cried Ferrari indignantly. “I don’t do stuff like that! Why would I wanna poison Anja?”
“You didn’t want her to challenge you and win,” said Ruffster.
“She wouldn’t have won anyway,” said Ferrari scornfully. “Would have beat her, no problems. Don’t need to do that shifty stuff.”
“Then what were you doin’ sneakin’ around behind there?” demanded Ruffster,
“I—” Ferrari stopped. He looked down at his paws and shifted uncomfortably. “I was just gonna get something.”
“What?”
“It’s private,” muttered Ferrari.
“What?” Ruffster took a step forwards.
The young Cocker Spaniel looked even more embarrassed. He glanced around, then moved closer and lowered his voice. “My blankie.”
“Your blankie?” said Ruffster incredulously.
“Shhh!” Ferrari looked nervously around. “Not so loud! It’s bad for my kennel cred.”
“Your blankie,” Ruffster repeated, looking like he had swallowed a toad.
“Yeah, I like to suck on my blankie, OK?” Ferrari said defensively. “Had it since I was a baby puppy. It makes me feel, like, safe, you know? But they say I’m a big boy now and they won’t lemme have it no more. Then I found it in her bag. So I hid it behind Anja’s crate and I was gonna go over to check on it just now.” He looked at them earnestly. “Hey, don’t tell anyone, OK?”
Ruffster was still spluttering with disbelief as the young Cocker Spaniel was led back to his own crate. The humans had calmed down now and seemed to be talking things over nicely. Other people and dogs began to disperse, returning to their own crates and benches.
“You know, I have to say, whoever is behind these attacks—I don’t think it’s Ferrari,” said Suka, watching the young Cocker Spaniel stretch out on his pet futon. “He’s so confident and so convinced he’s going to win! I just don’t see him doing stuff to another dog because he just wouldn’t think he’d need to.”
“Yes,” Anja agreed. “He’s not worried about losing or about other dogs being competition.”
“I didn’t pick up his scent anywhere near the fake Peemail either,” added Biscuit.
“Still don’t trust him,” muttered Ruffster.
“Anyway, we haven’t had any more creepy howling or any other bad things happen so far today,” said Anja brightly. “Maybe we’re worrying for nothing and it will all stop now.”
Honey wasn’t so sure. There was a feeling of uneasy anticipation in the arena—like that feeling she got when she was sitting in the vet waiting room. But she kept her thoughts to herself as the Breeder came over to get her ready for the show.
––––––––
They were going into a different ring this time. Honey stood with the Breeder as they waited to be called, feeling nervous as she looked at the dogs around her: a muscular Boxer, a distinguished Giant Schnauzer, an elegant Doberman, a hunky Bullmastiff and a striking Husky with a tail to rival Suka’s. They all looked amazing, with their glossy coats and proud heads. Honey felt embarrassed standing next to them. She looked down and saw a glob of slobber on her front paws. Oh no. She was drooling again. It must be the nerves. She licked her lips, trying to wipe her mouth clean, but she could feel drool oozing out of the corners of her mouth again. She thought of what had happened with her slobber the last time in the ring and cringed.
Honey looked desperately around. She saw several wads of tissue sticking out of the Breeder’s back pocket and an idea began to grow in her mind. Maybe if she stuffed those into the back of her mouth, down in the corners of her jowls, they would soak up the drool and keep her mouth dry while she was in the ring? Nobody would know—the good thing about having huge, baggy jowls was that you could hide anything in them and nobody would see.
Honey hesitated.
It would be cheating. Sort of.
But it would mean that she might have a better chance of winning. She remembered her daydream—the one of her standing proudly next to her Breeder as they were being presented with the winner’s silver cup. Wouldn’t that be amazing? She looked at the tissues again. Colette’s voice echoed in her head: “You have to use everything you can to look your best, do everything you can to win.”
Honey shifted her paws, a thrill of guilty excitement going through her.
Nobody would find out. You could be a winner.
The dogs around her began to move. The steward was calling them into the ring. It was now or never.
Honey looked at the tissues and took a deep breath.