It'd only worry her! And--and she'll think I ought
to have invited all those panhandlers up to the house to get dry.
Perhaps she'd be right, too. She generally is."
A week later, Lad received a summons that made his heart sink.
For he knew precisely what it foretold. He was called to the
bathroom; where awaited him a tub half full of warm water.
Now, baths were no novelty to Lad. But when a bath tub contained
certain ingredients from boxes on the dog-closet
shelf,--ingredients that fluff the coat and burnish it and make
all its hairs stand out like a Circassian Beauty's, that meant
but one thing.
It meant a dog-show was at hand.
And Lad loathed dog-shows, as he loathed tramps and castor oil
and motorcycles.
After a single experience, he had never been taken to one of
those canine ordeals known as "three-or-more-day shows." But the
Mistress and the Master rejoiced at his triumphs at such local
one-day shows as were within pleasant driving distance of the
Place. These exhibitions entailed no great strain or danger.
Lad's chief objection to them was that he hated to be chirped to
and pawed and stared upon by an army of strangers.
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