The Dog Trainer

**This is a work in progress**

Antonia Steele flung open the door of her Mill Valley mansion just as I was about to ring the bell at the back door. "Oh, Thank God you're here!"

Antonia never did anything at half-speed, and coming into her orbit meant breathless conversations and frequent bewilderment trying to figure out what in the world she was talking about. Still, I instinctively liked her irreverence and sense of humor. She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into her kitchen which was in complete disarray due to their massive house remodel. A plumber lay on the floor, the upper half of his body inside of a maple, half-finished sink cabinet.

"Look! Look!" Antonia said, oblivious to the fact that the man could not see anything from inside the cabinet. "This is the dog trainer. She's helping us train Float!" I closed my eyes with embarrassment. It wasn't exactly the second coming. When I opened them again, I could see the plumber shimmying out from under the cabinet. He rolled over, got awkwardly to his knees, stood up, wiped his hands on his brown canvas pants, and then held out his right hand. I stepped forward and shook it. Long ago he had lost the war with his beer gut. His furry belly peeked out under his stained white t-shirt like a smiling mustache.

"Dog trainer, huh?"

He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants and hitched them up. I tried not to think about plumber's butt. "I got a Rotty in the back of my truck, maybe you could do something with him. He's a real dumb ass." He stopped, remembering Antonia. We both turned to her to see if she minded the mild swear but she was lost in thought, staring out the window at something in the un-landscaped front yard. "Well, chop, chop, back to Float!" she suddenly said.

I looked around for her Cavalier King Charles spaniel. "Oh heavens," she said, "He's not down herein all this horrible mess! He's upstairs in the bedroom."

I followed Antonia through the great room and upstairs. Her husband was a famous movie producer and they had oodles of money but they didn't seem to mind living in the chaos of their remodel. There was plaster dust everywhere and they hadn't even bothered to put away many of their objets d'art. There was a silk kimono on one wall, along with an African headdress, and some sort of ancient weapon that had a whole bunch of feathers on one end. The great room had eleven foot ceilings with intricate crown molding, a grand piano in one corner and a beautiful brown leather sectional. The fireplace was taped over with plastic. Plaster dust covered everything, including the grand sweeping staircase we took to the second floor.

I followed Antonia down the hallway. There were framed and autographed movie posters hung everywhere. This was my third visit to the Steele's house but I had never been upstairs. My first visit had been before they got their puppy. They wanted coaching on how to introduce him to the household and that sort of thing. The second visit we discussed a housebreaking regimen and other puppy essentials.

We reached the master bedroom. The California king bed was draped with an eight inch thick down comforter, encased in a beautiful white-pattern-on-white-cotton duvet.There were five or six yellow stains on it. I gulped. I had just priced duvets at Macy's in San Rafael and even the cheap ones were way out of my price range. In the exact center of the bed, a three month old orange and white Cavalier was stretched out sleeping. When Antonia entered, Float lazily opened one eye but didn't even consider getting up to greet us.

"Oh, he's soooo lazy," Antonia said.

I decided to get tough. "I thought we agreed he was going to stay off the bed until he was housebroken."

"Oh, I know," said Antonia as she picked the dog up, "But what harm can he do if he's just sleeping?"

I pointedly eyed the yellow stains. "Is he still sleeping with you or have you got him sleeping in his crate at night?" Antonia started jumping up and down, excitedly. "Oh! That reminds me! I need you to settle an argument Frank and I had this morning!"

I struggled to switch gears. "I don't think--"

"No, no, it's related to Float" insisted Antonia.

I snuck a peak at my watch. We weren't making progress. Oh well. I was trying to learn that if the client wanted to pay me to stand there and listen to them talk then that was what the client wanted.

Encouraged by my silence, Antonia pressed on. "OK. SoI woke up this morning and as soon as I did, I got my period--"

Oh Jesus, what on earth could this have to do with dog training?

"--I mean, I reallygot it. So I jumped out of bed and I'm running to the door, you know how it is, right, because there's gonna be a mess any moment?" Antonia seemed to want something so I threw her a non-committal smile.

"So I'm passing Float's crate and he starts to whine because he wants to go out and do his business. Then Frank says that I should stop and take Float out first because now I've woken the dog up. But I couldn't wait! I couldn't believe he didn't understand this. Of course I would have taken Float out first but, I couldn't! So then we had an argument about that and Frank went off all mad this morning."

"Well, in the first place--"

"--Except for we talked a few minutes ago and made up about it but I told him I would ask you what I should have done."

I took a deep breath. Remain calm, I counseled myself. Don't get sucked into the vortex. "Your dog should wait for you sometimes. Maybe even all the time. You are in charge. Not Float. If Float has to wait while you, uh, do your thing, then Float simply has to wait. I mean, that's ridiculous, your husband, could have gotten out of--" I stopped talking when I realized that Antonia was dialing a cordless phone.

"Barbara? Put my husband on!" she said into the phone.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then, "Darling? I love you, too. Hey! I just wanted you to know that the dog trainer is here and she says I can use a Tampax any time I want to!"