Although we’ve been up for hours and are perfectly used to refusing the pleas of beds that beg us to linger, we’re nonetheless a little puffy eyed and a lot overcaffeinated. But who cares about us? We’re mere human beings, and this is dog show! The creatures who matter are Rowdy and Kimi and Mr. Wookie, and they’re bright-eyed and eager and gorgeous. And, well they should be having fun because they’re not the ones lugging grooming tables, tack boxes, and Vari-Kennels out of my disreputable Bronco and Mary’s spiffy rental van, are they? The dogs aren’t swearing. Far from it. Mr. Wookie, in particular, is addressing Mary in what resemble animated English sentences minus only the trivia of identifiable words. I’m the one who’s cursing, and the reason is that I’ve just discovered that the worn spot on the floor behind the driver’s seat of my car has become a hole through which I can see blacktop.Mr. Wookie has as much reason to voice joyful self-confidence about his chances in the ring as I do to mutter obscenities about my car.
