What if dogs were not only man's best friend - but also his last hope? Clement is a disgraced dog show judge whose wife Edith left him under mysterious circumstances. When he is asked to step in as a last-minute substitute to judge at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, he learns two things: Edith is about to be killed by a shadow and it’s up to him to prevent it. According to the Hunts, the only way to save Edith is making sure Irving, a hideous mongrel dog with special abilities, wins Best in Show.
This heart-hugging story about love and loss was inspired by T. S. Garp’s first story, “The Pension Grillparzer.” If you liked this short story from John Irving’s book The World According to Garp, you’ll love “The Marvelous Misfits of Westminster.”
What if dogs were not only man's best friend - but also his last hope? Clement is a disgraced dog show judge whose wife Edith left him under mysterious circumstances. When he is asked to step in as a last-minute substitute to judge at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, he learns two things: Edith is about to be killed by a shadow and it’s up to him to prevent it. According to the Hunts, the only way to save Edith is making sure Irving, a hideous mongrel dog with special abilities, wins Best in Show.
This heart-hugging story about love and loss was inspired by T. S. Garp’s first story, “The Pension Grillparzer.” If you liked this short story from John Irving’s book The World According to Garp, you’ll love “The Marvelous Misfits of Westminster.”
The Hunts and I are parked at the shabby side of the center of the universe, a little away from her trailer. It took us a while to find the trailer park, as it doesn’t appear on any map. The place looks desolate. There’s junk everywhere. What isn’t covered in garbage is overgrown with weeds. The air is hot and oppressive. Something’s brewing. A storm, if we’re lucky. Those storm clouds are unnerving me, though. They look not quite natural, as if someone had painted them—someone with a vicious sense of humor.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. Even the strays are missing. No cats, no dogs. Apart from us, there’s only a boy. He’s sitting in the dust in front of a boarded-up trailer, pitching pebbles at a tin can.
“You sure she lives here?” I ask, though I know she does. Not only is it written in skin, but Irving sniffed her out too. Still, my heart refuses to believe. When she rejected any of my money ten years ago, I figured she had made other arrangements. Realizing she’d lived like this all those years tears my heart.
Through the rearview mirror, I look at Haimi in the back seat. Irving has curled up into a ball on her lap and is snoring softly.
“You want me to read it again?” Haimi asks. She knows I’m looking at her. How is a mystery to me. But she always does.
“Don’t be silly, dear,” Harvey says. “You’ve read it to him a hundred times.” The coughing sound is him laughing. “Haven’t I undressed enough already?” He pats my thigh to get my attention. As I look, he winks at me and points with two thumps at his skin.
I roll my eyes, but my mouth pulls into a smile. “I know, I know … ‘This skin ain’t joking.’”
With a sigh, I get out of the car. Every fiber tells me to get her out of this place. But this is not my story. I’m just the sidekick helping the hero along. As I walk to the back of the car, I tug at my shirt. It clings to me like it’s trying to hold me back. Why on earth did she run away to hell?
I open the trunk and get out the box. It’s large and heavier than anticipated. I press it against my chest and walk carefully over to her trailer. At the doorstep, I bend my knees in a slow, fluid motion. The box clunks to the ground, despite my effort. I breathe in sharply and wait. Nothing. I peek through the air holes in the lid, but it’s too dark inside to see anything. So, I put my ear on the box to double-check. With relief, I hear steady breaths and a low snore. I retie the bow, securing it with a double knot for good measure. Time to go. Before I leave, I stroke the lid and whisper, “You catch it, girl, and when you do, kill it. Kill it before it kills her!”
Irving is a dog who hunts shadows. And the prophecy about where and when to find them lies in the pattern on the body of one who has escaped from flames. Sounds a bit odd, right? It gets odder.
Clement has been asked to judge a dog show at Westminster once again. He never thought he’d get another chance after a previous infamous decision. This time, apparently, he is meant to judge the Best in Show and how Irving even made it into the competition he’ll never know. After meeting Irving’s human parents, Clement has the very foundation of his understanding rocked, when he learns what has to be done to save someone he loved. This could change his life and hers forever, so can he suspend disbelief enough to trust in a process that has been working in secret for hundreds of years?
Who doesn’t need a quick story about a hero dog? The premise sounded intriguing but I will admit that I was a little confused after reading the first page. Nonetheless I pushed on with high hopes, and I was hugely rewarded. In fact, when I finished it, I felt a little in awe, as so much could be read into the deeper meaning of the shadows that needed to be killed. The characters were described beautifully and I could picture exactly how the Hunts as well as Irving looked. The idea behind the help that is offered and how it gets shared throughout the years is really clever. I will probably never look at a dog in the same way again!
For me, and it might not worry others but it interrupts my flow of reading horribly, the inconsistency between straight and curly apostrophes was annoying. A very minor detail in an otherwise beautifully crafted book.
Suitable for all ages, The Misfits of Westminster ticks boxes for comedy, drama, and mystery, and definitely covers all the feels!