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TWELVE
Chandler finished installing the last security camera in the front part of the salon and climbed down the ladder to check his watch—6 p.m. The salon officially closed at five. However, a new walk-in customer had come in around four thirty and Eden had agreed to take them. As Chandler folded up the ladder and collected his tools to return to the supply closet, he peered through the glass windows separating the front boutique from the back grooming area. Yep. She was still hard at work on the little wiener dog on her table.
He put the stuff away, stuck his head through the door, and called to her. “Any idea how long it will take you to finish with your little guy there?”
She checked her smart watch. “I don’t know. Maybe another twenty minutes or so, depending on how Gunther behaves.”
“Gunther?” Chandler scrunched his nose. Seemed like an awfully big name for a tiny pooch. He got the whole German/dachshund connection, but still. And from what he could see, the dog looked the same now as he had when the owner had dropped him off earlier. He was kind of shaggy for a dachshund, but from what the owners said, Gunther was a wirehaired variety. “Twenty minutes, really?”
“Well, yeah—if I want to do it right,” she said. And okay, he got it. He wasn’t one to leave a project half done either. “It would go faster with a second set of hands,” she admitted, “but Lena had to leave.”
He walked over to stand beside her at the grooming table. He liked dogs. Liked animals of all kinds. He’d help, though he had no clue what he was doing here. Couldn’t be too hard, right? “What do you need my help with?”
She looked up from her trimming, one dark brow raised. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Her slow grin was playful, mischievous, just like when they were kids. And just like then, it made him wonder what he’d gotten himself into. “All right,” she said. “Gunther needs a bath.”
“Didn’t he already have a bath when he got here?” Chandler asked, confused. “I swear I saw Lena bathe him.”
“She did, but the owner called after Lena left and requested a special oatmeal soak for Gunther because he’s been itching a lot from dry skin. So, we need to bathe him again.”
“Oh.” Chandler shrugged. He’d never tried to wash a dog before, but Gunther looked like he weighed eight pounds max, so how difficult could it be? “Fine. Just tell me where to go and what to use.”
“Through there.” Eden pointed at a doorway leading into a small room with a long, narrow metal sink along one wall. “Make sure you use the bottle marked Oatmeal Wash from the shelf above the sink and let it sit on him for a good five minutes after application before rinsing. There’s a clock on the wall to help you.”
“Okay.” He nodded, then scooped up Gunther in one arm, like a football, and unhooked him from the leash attaching him to the table. Before he made it two steps though, the little dog wedged its back legs against his chest and launched itself like a rocket out of his grip and across the room to tumble head over ass across the tile floor. “Shit!” Chandler scrambled after the dog, who he feared had broken his neck. But Gunther stood up and shook himself off like nothing had happened, then proceeded to run in circles around the salon as fast as his short, little legs would take him. Pulse thundering and head spinning, Chandler tried to catch him while Eden just watched, an amused look on her face. Finally, he managed to trap the errant wiener in the corner and pick him up again, this time holding him securely to make sure he didn’t escape.
As he walked by her grooming table, Eden said, “You done yet?”
If he hadn’t had both hands busy securing the squirming dog, he would’ve flipped her off.
Chandler walked into the bathing room and shut the door, in case Gunther somehow got loose again, before he put the dog into the sink. At one end was what looked like a small, short garden hose attached to the faucet and a leash with an opening at one end to slip around the dog’s neck and hold them in place. Okay. Good. He got Gunther secured and took a breath. Then he turned on the water and the little dog lost his shit. Literally.
First, he pooped in the sink. Then he stepped in it. Then he proceeded to strain and struggle against the leash holding him in place, sending water and feces all over the room. Once he got the dog calmed down and both of them rinsed off, he reached up to grab the bottle of oatmeal wash, and Gunther did a full-body shake. Chandler now had more water on him than the dog did, but he was determined to finish this and see it through. It was a matter of pride now. He squirted some of the wash into his palm without reading the directions, figuring he could eyeball it, but only ended up filling the large sink with enough suds to soak fifty Gunthers.
“How’s it—” Eden asked, sticking her head inside the room. “Oh, wow.”
“Wow is right,” Chandler said, staring at the clock on the wall as the five-minute wait ticked down. He’d fucked up everything else on this task, but at least he’d get that right. “Three minutes, twenty seconds to go.”
She walked over to stand beside him and when he hazarded a side glance at her, he found Eden clearly biting back a laugh.
“So, on the bright side,” he said, swallowing his pride, “I have a whole new appreciation for you now. All of this stuff is a lot harder than it looks.”
“Like anything else, you just have to do it enough to learn the tricks of the trade,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “And you got further and did better than I thought you would.” Eden laughed and Chandler joined her, suds covering the dog and him up to his mid-forearms. She hiked her chin toward Gunther. “Want me to take over now? I can show you how it’s done.”
“I’d love that, actually,” he said, meaning it. Experiencing even a fraction of what she did made him interested in learning more. “Did I hook the leash thing up right?”
“You did.” She smiled at him as they switched places. After the five-minutes wait was up, she turned on the water again, and kept a gentle, firm hand on Gunther, calming him instantly as she rinsed him off, telling him in a low voice what a good boy he was and how handsome he was going to look. Chandler found his own tension swirling down the drain along with the water. She really was excellent at this. When the dog was clean, Eden shut off the water and grabbed a towel from the stack on a shelf nearby and wrapped it around Gunther. Once he was tucked safely under her arm, she undid the leash and turned toward the door. “Okay. Bathing is done. Now we need to get him dry, so let’s go back to my grooming table.”
They returned to the main room and Eden got the little dog hooked up to the leash on her table again before giving him a vigorous rub down with the towel. “Important not to forget his ears either,” she said, lifting up the dog’s small, folded ears one by one and making sure she got all the water out. “They can get infected otherwise.” She looped another leash around her grooming table and slipped it around Gunther’s other end. “This just gives us a little extra measure of safety in case he gets jumpy when we turn the dryer on.”
Eden grabbed the dryer and turned it on, pointing it at herself first. “You always want to test the temperature of the air. Make sure it’s warm but not too hot.” The nozzle was on a flexible tube, like what Chandler had seen on vacuum cleaners, allowing Eden to turn it in whichever direction she needed. As the dryer warmed, he noticed Gunther gradually got less nervous about the noise and more curious about what Eden was doing. Finally, she moved closer to the table and turned the nozzle toward him. “This kind of dryer is meant to be used up close to their skin. It doesn’t hurt them at all. You want to work in small circles, placing your hand behind their leg or tail when drying those parts.” She did all four legs and the dog’s backend before starting on his belly. “And now we repeat it all over again. I also usually use this time to check the overall health of their skin and to see if there are any abrasions or lumps or bumps I need to warn the owners about. Sometimes, we’re the first to notice those sorts of problems.”
“Wow,” Chandler said as she ran the dryer over the dog again. “I had no idea how involved all this was.”
“Most people don’t.” She smiled, sticking a cotton ball inside each of Gunther’s ears before switching the dryer to low for his face and ear area. “But I love what I do.”
