Petunia At The Pet Show
FUN SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY GAIL WARRICK COX
Despite all the knockbacks and rejections, Lucy and her companion were going to show them all!
The day was bright and clear, the powder-blue sky streaked with wispy clouds, the sun sparkling and warm. Perfect weather for a summer fête. Lucy fastened a newly bought crimson collar around Petunia’s neck, attached her lead and led her to the car. She hauled Petunia into the dog crate on the back seat and settled her with her blanket and favourite squeaky toy.
“Today’s the day,” she said, patting Petunia’s head. “This is what we’ve been working towards.” She tickled Petunia under her chin. “It’s your chance to show everyone you’re just as capable as any of the dogs who attended Miss Bryce’s agility class.”
Petunia gazed up at Lucy, half closed her conker-coloured eyes and pushed her face forward, enjoying the attention.
“Good girl,” Lucy said as she closed the crate. She slid into the driver’s seat of her tatty old car, turned the key to ignite its putt-putt engine and together they chugged their way to the village green where the fête was to be declared open by the rotund and rosy-cheeked Reverend Hughes.
The fête was a popular event in the village’s social calendar, organised jointly by members of the parish council and the local women’s group. All the villagers pitched in to make it a fun day with a variety of stalls, competitions, games for the children and the
ever-popular pet show.
This year, for the first time, an agility contest was being held as part of the pet show. Miss Bryce, the local dog expert, had run a series of classes in the village hall for would-be contestants and their handlers to hone their skills and become competition-ready.
Lucy had signed Petunia up for the classes, but at only six months old she had become rather over-excited at the first session and had a little accident. Miss Bryce’s stern words still echoed
in Lucy’s ears.
“If your animal isn’t house-trained, she’s definitely not ready to participate in an agility class – let alone compete in a competition.”
Lucy had tried to explain that Petunia was not used to so many dogs in a room all at once and was just a little overwhelmed. That, given time, she would settle in and be fine. But Miss Bryce remained unconvinced and had asked Lucy and Petunia not to attend any further sessions.
It was a real disappointment. A setback. But Lucy had faith in Petunia, and they weren’t about to give up on the competition. She bought a book on agility training, watched endless videos online showing the techniques used to train a champion, and ordered a starter kit to make a practice course in her garden. As soon as it arrived, she and Petunia set to work. Petunia was a quick learner; she loved to master a new skill or piece of apparatus.
Within a few weeks she was competent at the weave poles, polytunnel, hurdles and see-saw. She was not quite so proficient at remaining in the pause box for the required amount of time, but all things considered, Lucy felt Petunia would be able to hold her own among the other contestants. After all, this wasn’t exactly Crufts.
Lucy parked in a lane just off the village centre and gently nudged a sleeping Petunia awake.
Petunia opened her soft brown eyes and snuffled Lucy’s hand.
“Come on, Petunia,” Lucy encouraged. “Time to show everyone what you can do.”
As they made their way to the village green, people smiled, nodded and said hello to them. As a familiar sight in the village, everyone knew Lucy and Petunia. A few children even ran over to stroke and cuddle Petunia. She lapped it up; she loved to be made a fuss of.
The village green had been transformed for the fête. It was packed with bunting-decked tents for the flower and vegetable shows, stalls selling cakes, fudge, cheeses and other local produce, a merry-go-round and swing boats for the children, and a busy refreshment marquee that oozed the mingling aromas of coffee, homemade cakes and strawberries and cream.
Lucy wasn’t tempted by the lure of such delights. She and Petunia headed straight for the administration tent and joined the queue to register for the agility contest. Mrs Harris and her stocky bulldog Hercules were in front of them, and they turned and looked at Petunia. A slime of saliva hung from Hercules’s mouth. Mrs Harris arranged her thin, coral-painted lips in a tight smile.
“I do hope she’s not going to embarrass you again,” she said, her eyes fixed on Petunia.
Hercules let out a low rumbling growl as a large drop of saliva stretched from his bottom lip and landed on the hessian matting that covered the floor.
“She’ll be fine,” Lucy said, stroking Petunia, the two of them carefully stepping over the sticky globule that had been left by Hercules.
Cheerful giggles burbled behind Lucy. It was the Simpson twins. Teenage girls with a penchant for pink who dressed identically and had sibling Chihuahuas they carried around in large handbag-style dog bags. They grinned at Lucy.
“You two going to have another go at the agility?” one of the girls asked.
“Yes,” Lucy replied. “We’ve been practising at home.”
“That’s so great,” the other twin said. “We thought it was a bit unfair when Miss Bryce banned you and Petunia from the classes.”
“Thanks,” Lucy said. “Are you entering Chilli and Taco?”
“Yes,” the girls replied in unison.
“We’re entering them as a team. They’re too light to move the see-saw on their own, so they’re going to compete together,” the other explained.
“That’s wonderful,” Lucy said. “It’s so nice that both dogs can join in the fun.”
The queue moved forward. Soon, Lucy reached the trestle table where Mrs Hughes, the Reverend’s wife who had equally rosy cheeks, was waiting to register entrants for the agility contest.
Lucy paid the small fee and wrote Petunia’s name on the list, noting that the competition was due to start at two, after the waggiest tail contest. There was just time to get a spot of lunch.
When two o’clock came, Lucy and Petunia gathered beside the course arena with the other contestants. Lucy was relieved to see that the course closely resembled the one she had made at home. She felt confident Petunia would be able to negotiate it well.
The competition was being judged by Miss Bryce and Reverend Hughes, who sat on a raised platform overlooking the arena. Each of the handlers had been given a number to pin on their clothes corresponding with the order they registered to compete.
Lucy and Petunia were sandwiched between Mrs Harris and Hercules and the Simpson twins with Chilli and Taco. The atmosphere around the arena was building as more crowds drifted across the green, eager to witness the first-ever agility contest.
A sudden shrill sound from the Tannoy hushed the crowd and a crackly voice drifted from the speakers.
“There will be a slight delay to the start of the agility contest while a technicality is addressed,” it announced.
Miss Bryce had left the viewing platform and was purposefully striding in the direction of the contestants. She stopped in front of Lucy and Petunia.
“I’m afraid you and Petunia will be unable to compete,” she said.
Lucy stared at her in disbelief. The Simpson twins moved closer to hear what was being said. Mrs Harris and Hercules did not look round.
“There’s been a complaint,” Miss Bryce continued. “It’s felt that Petunia doesn’t fit the competition criteria,” she explained. “I’m sorry, but you will have to withdraw.”
The Simpson twins let out a gasp.
Reverend Hughes came puffing over.
“Everything alright?” he wheezed.
“Petunia’s not allowed to compete,” Lucy wailed. Unexpected tears prickled her eyes. “We’ve worked so hard. I don’t see what criteria she doesn’t meet.”
“The dog criteria,” Mrs Harris piped up.
Petunia is a pig! This is a dog agility competition.
“Aww, no!” the Simpson twins chimed, and they began to rummage in the pockets of their dog carriers.
The Reverend Hughes offered the voice of reason.
“Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt for Lucy and Petunia to have a go, so long as the other contestants are all agreeable,” he suggested.
“But that’s just it.” Mrs Harris gestured to her dog. “We’re not agreeable, are we, Hercules? And rules are rules.”
The Simpson twins pulled a sheet of paper from one of their dog carriers and waved it in the air triumphantly.
“We’ve got the rules here,” they chorused, thrusting the paper towards Miss Bryce.
“And they don’t specify that it’s a competition just for dogs,” one of the girls informed the crowd.
“Or that only one dog can compete at a time,” the other twin added quickly. The girls linked arms and stared defiantly at Mrs Harris. Hercules let out one of his low, rumbling growls.
Miss Bryce and Reverend Hughes huddled over the paper for a moment. Miss Bryce raised an authoritative hand.
“Having reviewed the rules,” she said calmly, “I can confirm the competition is open to allcomers, including pigs and pairs of Chihuahuas.”
The Simpson twins cheered and clapped. Mrs Harris tutted as she and Hercules turned the other way. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief and patted Petunia’s pink head.
“We’re back in the running,” she said.
Miss Bryce and Reverend Hughes made their way back to the judges’ platform, settled themselves and waved the first contestant into the ring.
The agility contest was a huge success, with great skill and teamwork demonstrated by the contestants and their handlers.
There were some funny moments, too. Like when Petunia refused to stay in the pause box, preferring to sit just outside it instead. And when Chilli and Taco disappeared inside the polytunnel and wouldn’t come out until one of the Simpson twins crawled in after them and shooed them through.
The contest was won by Sky, a gorgeous black-and-white border collie with one blue eye, who sat proudly on the podium to receive his red winner’s rosette. Lucy and Petunia came a very respectable fourth and graciously accepted a lovely green rosette.
Chilli and Taco were unplaced, but were given a Highly Commended certificate for working as a team.
Sadly, Mrs Harris and Hercules were unable to finish the course after Mrs Harris twisted her ankle having slipped on something gloopy that had fallen from Hercules’s mouth.
In church the following Sunday, Reverend Hughes spoke of the value of respecting differences and inclusion for all. He also informed the congregation that this year’s fête had raised the
largest sum to date and that all proceeds would be distributed to local charities and good causes. A ripple of applause echoed around.
As Lucy made her way to her car, someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was Miss Bryce, smiling awkwardly.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be running another set of agility classes in the autumn and if you and Petunia wanted to attend, I’d be more than happy to see you both there.”
Lucy beamed. She thanked Miss Bryce and told her they would love to come along. She hurried to her car.
She could hardly wait to get home and tell Petunia the good news. With the extra training, perhaps next year they could win a red rosette to match Petunia’s collar.
Read more fun short stories:
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