Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Chapter Seven
Not Best in Show
"And now, the juniors category- English bulldog," the announcer intoned.
"Here we go my little puddin wuddin. Our turn to shine," Marge cooed to her newest baby. Though only working with him for the shortest imaginable time before registering him for a show, he had already taken over Ripper's spot in Marge's bed and heart. His exceptional quickness in learning commands had astounded Marge and her doggy-loving friends alike. She never had to demonstrate and state a command more than once, and the little pup followed suit, completely without error. "He seems to understand the Queen's English- really," Marge exclaimed more than once. She was anxious to show him off- and garner as many medals as possible with her new prize pup.
"Just do what Mummy-wummy showed you, Twinkle," Marge whispered to her puppy protege. Around the ring, up on the platform, spine level and legs splayed back in perfect form- Twinkle performed without the slightest hesitation. Trouble is, the platform he chose to jump on was actually the judge's back, having momentarily bent over to pick up the pencil she'd just dropped. While the crowd roared with laughter, Marge became apoplectic. "No, Twinkie-winkie, not there." And then indignant, when challenged by the not-so-amused judge. "But he was perfect, absolutely perfect. It's not his fault you couldn't see him perform. He must have mistaken you for the table." Marge realized too late that her bright little pug could do just about anything- but see straight. "No, fear, for the next time, baby boo boo." Unfortunately, there would be no next time, as Hagrid grabbed Twinkie-winkie's leash just as McGonagall unleashed a memory charm on the entire arena.