#anywhere

At New York City, Gwen takes a breath. She's an adult now, more or less. But she's so young, some think she should be a Junior handler. Still past 18, and she's shown before. But never ever at the Westminster. She lifts her chin as she guides a dog from her barony through the best of breed competition. So many near perfect examples of the type. She wishes Caucasian Shepherds were recognized. Ivan would love it here. Instead, the Native American woman glides along despite her height with another breed entirely.

A rather pompous looking gentleman with a (admittedly remarkable) bedlington terrier gives her a sidelong glance and a sniff.

Gwen ignores him. Though she must admire the dog. Good lines.

Gwen is currently dressed rather nicely, her mom made sure of that, and the Baroness gave fashion tips for this crowd.

It's not the dog's fault that it is a slope-headed lamb-looking creature.

(Perc + animal ken)

Meanwhile, the gentleman is eyeing the dog that Gwen accompanies.

/roll 8

While a young Irish Wolfound, Endeavor . son of Fort and Chateau, is a stellar example of the breed.

As Gwen walks by, her skilled eye happens to catch the Bedlington’s coat where the light hits it just so. The color reads correct at a distance, but up close the texture is a touch too dry and overworked, especially along the ears and muzzle. The trim subtly exaggerates the arch of the topline, clever work that suggests compensation rather than necessity. Where skin shows at the lips and inner ear, there is the faintest yellow cast, visible only at certain angles.

The gentleman gives a brief, dismissive sniff as she passes, chin lifting a fraction.

The card clipped to the lead reads: Mr. Chadwick H. Pembroke
CH Pembroke’s Final Authority

Gwen knows that a coat worked that carefully is not just for beauty. At this level, it usually means something is being maintained... or hidden. The corrective trim and dried texture point to a dog that must be kept within a narrow window to stay competitive, and the faint yellowing where skin shows suggests an issue the handler is managing cosmetically instead of addressing.

It marks the Bedlington as excellent now, but with a limited future, and its handler as someone pushing hard for titles in the present. The sort of dog that wins if no one looks too closely, and the sort of man who hopes the room is full of people who do not know where to look.

It's NOT a disqualifier... but poor form on the man's part.

She tilts her head, "Odd, the lighting here almost gives a yellow sheen, but only at certain angles." She is blunt, playing up her youth and height, but she hopes to say where others can hear it besides Mr. Pembroke.

And her heart goes out to the dog.

Mr. Pembroke stiffens, color rising fast up his neck. He gives a sharp, disbelieving laugh that does not quite land.

“That is the lighting,” he says too quickly, voice pitched a little loud. “Everyone knows this hall does dreadful things to pale coats.”

A few nearby handlers glance over, eyes flicking not to Gwen, but to the Bedlington. Someone murmurs something under their breath. Another leans a fraction closer, openly studying the dog’s ears.

Pembroke clears his throat and adjusts his grip on the lead, fingers tightening. “Perfectly sound dog. Perfectly within standard,” he adds, cheeks flushed now, the words tumbling over each other. “Championship judges have never had a concern.”

"Oh, of course, sir, " She faux demures, which may look silly on a woman her height, but then again, not as silly as his excuse. She glances at the other pale coated dogs, "Maybe it's the light just over Final Authority and yourself.. I don't see it on.. oh well, it IS my first time. I'm sure the judges would spot any problems." A side eye as she says "Come along, Endeavor, let's get you to the Irish Wolfhound trials."

A n amused chuckle follows on Gwen’s heels.

“Well,” a woman’s voice pipes up lightly, close enough to be clearly intentional, “that is an astute eye for a first Westminster.”

She falls into step beside Gwen, hands clasped behind her back in a relaxed posture.

“And honestly,” she adds, conversational and cheerful, “that stuffed shirt had it coming. Everyone in Bedlingtons knows that look. Poor creature. If it is copper toxicosis, it ought to be retired, not paraded under hot lights. Certainly not bred.”

She gives a small shrug, as if discussing the weather rather than quietly eviscerating a reputation.

“Some people chase ribbons. Others look after dogs.”

"Thank you kindly for verifying my suspicions," She says to the woman, "Truthfully I am honored to be here for the first time though I suppose I'd be lying to say I didn't hope that Endeavor wins a prize. Still I would like to be the sort of person who looks after dogs. I appreciate what institutions like this try to do, when they show their best. Preserve history and celebrate the bond between man and canine, or woman and canine as the case maybe. I'm Gwen, of Silver and Sable Kennels." She looks to see who this woman is, and if she has a dog with her.

The woman’s smile widens, clearly pleased. She gives a small nod of approval before answering.

“That is exactly the right reason to be here,” she says warmly. “Winning is lovely, but stewardship lasts longer.”

She gestures toward the hound ring, where a towering Irish Wolfhound stands calm and regal amid the fuss of handlers and spectators. “I’m just here along for support today,” she continues, cheerfully, “but I do have a soft spot for Wolfhounds. My friend—one of the breeders showing—is busy keeping the judges happy, so I’m free to wander.”

Her gaze swings back to Gwen. “I’m Marian,” she introduces herself, "Silver and Sable Kennels, you said? I'll remember that name. People who actually care about the dogs, not just the ribbons, are exactly the sort this place needs.”

"Thank you, the owner of the kennels, my boss, has been very kind to me in giving me a chance to work with some amazing dogs, so if I reflect well on his kennels, then that helps make my day. It's nice to meet you, Marian," She means it too, Marian seems to be her kind of person, "I admit, the competition is going to be intimidating, but then I see Endeavor just wagging along and I'm reminded this is his moment not mine and he knows well enough to enjoy it regardless."

Gwen can't help but notice the towering Wolfhound that IS Endeavor's competition. Endeavor's youth, and her own, may put her at a disadvantage against these more established winners.

Marian glances toward the ring, smiling warmly. “Endeavor’s a lovely dog. He’s got a good shot once he’s a bit blooded, a little more ring experience under his belt. You can tell he’s got the heart for it.”

She nods back toward the wolfhound under the judges’ eyes. “That’s my friend’s dog. Champion Hops-N-Hounds Hello Sweetie! Beli BCAT, daughter of Prince Titan Of Wolfholm and Hops-N-Hounds Destroyer Of Worlds Aine. I know, it’s a mouthful, but that’s how it’s done here. I think she's got a real shot here to take B-O-B."

Her gaze returns to Gwen, smiling. “Still, I'll plan to keep an eye on your Endeavor. He’s got something special.”

Gwen blinks, "I kind of love that name and now regret I didn't give Endeavor's full one" She finally says, "What does your call that beauty for short?" She admires the rival.

Marian, curious now, flips through the pamphlet listing the entrants, her eyes scanning quickly. “Oh, they just call her Beli for short. I joke it's because she thinks with her stomach..." THen she finds the entry.

"I see!” she says as she scans over Endeavor’s entry. “Endeavorium ad Excelsum, son of CH. Fortitudo Magnum and Chateau. Very solid lineage—sire has quite the reputation, and Chateau's breeder line brings a stable, consistent line as well. He’s got good bones, good movement, and the sort of pedigree judges appreciate.”

A grin up at Gwen. “Not just a pretty face in the ring. That combination suggests he’ll hold up well over time, both for showing and in the breeding lines. You’ve got a fine one on your hands.”

And after a beat, "Okay, I'm dying here, can I pet him?"

Gwen actually laughs, the troll chuff that escapes her even in mortal guise, "Yes, since you ask so nicely of course" She knows that is considered proper behavior here, and frankly ANYWHERE. YOu ask before you just pet a dog someone else brought, "And thank you. I hope we surprise everyone of course, but it's good to know Endeavor has a promising future from someone who knows their stuff." She looks to Endeavor, "Endevor, you're gonna get some loving."

Marian leans down slightly, ruffling Endeavor’s ears. “Hello you little lovely, oh yes, you're just a big baby..." Even professionals cannot help devolving into such inanities with a Good Boy on hand.

"Have you thought about trying him on the BCAT?” she asks. “That’s where Beli earned her first ribbons.”

Mentioning the AKC Coursing Ability Test that Gwen is assuredly familiar with.

"I hadn't considered it," she admits "Though it's a good idea. Endeavor enjoys a good run as much as the next wolf hound. Now, I have done some agility courses , only on a regional level, though that wasnt' with Endeavor. In truth partly I'm here to make a good showing period and remind folks that Silver and Sable Kennels are quality and that we love our dogs and are proud of them period. So my boss would be delighted I've caught your attention. You have a dog yourself," It's not a question, Marian is the sort to, "Even if not registered I can't picture you not having one on your couch."

The more Gwen thinks about the BCAT the more she likes the idea though. It would get Endeavor on the map and he'd have a blast. Also, the dogs SHE trains are disciplined and eager.

Marian grins, tilting her head. “I do have a dog of my own. Her name’s Puck, but I call her Bastard in Show. " SHowing off a picture - apparently she’s a scrappy little terrier mix, wiry coat, one floppy ear, the other sticking straight up, tail wagging like it has a mind of its own.

Marian goes on, "Clever, stubborn, full of personality. You can’t help but adore her, even when she’s getting into trouble.”

“I used to aspire toward the ring too, but I just can’t stop taking in strays. Here’s Puck, of course, but also a couple cats I couldn’t say no to… and this big caiman that someone left in a box at the vet. He’s completely hideous, I know, but somehow charming.”

She adds, “I swear, if it breathes, crawls, or meows, I’m taking it home. Keeps life interesting, that’s for sure.”

Gwen grins at the picture "Puck is adorable and yeah, that terrier part will mean life is never dull." She looks over the other pictures shown of the cats too, and the caiman. She's not so much into lizards , but hey, "Okay yeah, I knew you had at least one but you may have an honest condition here." It's said kindly, "That's why I love my job. I get to help look over them even if only one is mine proper." She shows her picture of Ivan, "That's Ivan. He's a big burly goof."

A soft chime rings somewhere in the hall, interrupting the admiration of Ivan. Marian glances up with a small sigh. “Oh, looks like it’s time for me to check in with my team,” she says, phone slipped back into pocket.

She hands Gwen a small card. “If you ever want to connect, or have questions about the BCATs, feel free to reach out. I’m always happy to talk about dogs of all shapes and sizes.”

With a nod and one last pat for Endeavor, she waves heads off toward her group.

She takes the card, and nods "Thanks, Marian. Again it was nice to meet you." She readies to show Endeavor off. Maybe they can get somewhere in the top five for the Wolfhound! Even that would be bragging rights in a crowd this huge.

Marian knows her stuff and called it true, while Endeavor did not win Best of Breed or even Best of Opposite Sex, there was pride in that the judge determined him at Exc (Excellent) rating, and Endeavor was at least in the top 10 (Not that is how it is measured ) out of dozens of the top dogs. More over, Gwen ends up shaking hands and congratulating the other handlers , reps and owners and name dropping Marian seems to pen a few doors. It's possible the Baron will find offers for breeding chances for his dogs from more than one top Kennel. In this, Gwen is glad that Endeavor's quality spoke for itself. Gwen even gets asked if she plans to do handling often or does it for anyone else. This last makes her blush but her own skill at working with dogs IS noted. The Baron might be less pleased with some kennels looking tempted to pinch is two legged talent.

And Glen of Imaal breeders of repute, hearing of Muppet and Dottie, are VERY welcoming at an ally trying to preserve the breed.

It's ALMOST overwhelming for the girl who started life on a res and then on the run but she handles it, and when she returns home, she glows with the pride of someone who loves what they do and has had an experience they will never forget.

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