I guess he saw that I was disappointed, because he went on: “Not that it isn’t worth while, of course. I used to go to it when I was a little fellow. You’ll like it and I dare say Freya will get a ‘blue.’ You too, maybe. A ‘red,’ anyhow. I have five or six ‘blues’ that I got there.” He yawned. “When is it to be?”
“Some time in June,” I said.
“Of course; it always is in June. I meant what day?”
I couldn’t tell him that, though.
“Well, you’ll have a good time. Don’t let folks handle you too much, Fritz. It upsets you and you don’t do so well in the ring. And don’t pay any attention to the judges. Act as if you didn’t see them. When I was a puppy I was too friendly and bit one of the judges on the nose when he was bending over me. I just did it in play, but I guess I bit too hard, because he made a great to-do about it and sent me right out of the ring and I didn’t even get a mention.”
“I suppose,” I said, “a great many dogs go to it?”
“Oh, about a hundred, I think. You’ll meet all kinds. Don’t have much to do with them. Some of them are no-account dogs. It takes all sorts of dogs to make a world, you know.”
“A hundred!” I said. “My, but that’s a lot of dogs, isn’t it? I didn’t know there were so many in the world, Jack!”