Ablutions Inc.

== Disclaimers ==

All persons are over 18 years old.

All the names have been completely randomized.

No dogs/pets are harmed or mistreated in any way.

If you like this, please feel free to (favorite / follow-author / read-bio / comment / upvote).

== Chapter: Backstory ==

My name is Kevin Cooper. I grew up in a suburb of Vancouver, B.C. (Canada), and some very odd and horrible and beautiful and crazy things have happened in my life.

When I was in 2nd grade, my father and younger sister were killed in a car crash.

As you can imagine, my life became a before-this, after-this split-up thing. I was split into pieces in lots of ways. Memory opposed reality. Presumptions and depended-on truths no longer applied. Home life was an emotional hole and school life was crazy, nonsensically the same, like I was just supposed to keep going as if nothing had happened.

Kids around me knew, my teacher had them create a card while I was off for the funeral. I came back, people didn't know how to treat me. Lots of them just didn't talk to me much, avoiding the issue.

My mother didn't have answers. In retrospect, she was a basket-case herself, and her parents lived far away (Christchurch, New Zealand) so she probably wasn't getting the support she needed, either.

I tried talking with my teacher about how weird it was and what I was feeling. This failed - she sent me to the school counselor, who was (frankly) a dick. I didn't need platitudes and reassurance. I - Just - Needed. I didn't know what I needed, but he sure didn't help.

This just shut me up.

I tried talking with our parish priest, but that was across town and I couldn't get over there easily.

No one I talked with really made a difference, and I just kept feeling horrible and confused and all the things and none of the things, all at once.

My infrequent (medical / social worker) counseling visits helped some, but boiled down to: cry a lot, talk to yourself or others, write, tell stories, actively remember, identify emotions.

Okay, fine. I was 8, but I knew what I was feeling some of the time at least - Horrible.

Our dog, WREX (not a he-rex or a tee-rex, she was she-wrecks) had a tail that swept crap off tables. WREX also saved my existence, my sanity, my very soul.

I could talk with WREX. I'd talk, and cry. I'd say things, and WREX would look at me. I'd hug her, and she'd lick my face. We had a thing. I could say Anything to WREX, and she'd let me be Me.

Even when I was seriously pissed off at Dad for dying, and my sister for dying too, she helped. I'd go outside and run around the block (or farther!) with her on a lead, and she'd pad away, running by my side. I'd cry in the rain and it didn't show and she didn't care, we were running!

I could even talk back, from her perspective, in her 'voice'.

Lots of people do this, people with dogs know, you give a voice to what the dog is obviously thinking, and make a kind-of dopey voice. "Ohh-ho, hoooo-yeah-I'm WREXie! I like BALLS! BALL! BALL!!!"

Conversations that gave voice to WREX made the pain lighter, the ache of missing him, and my sister Annie, less. They gave me my calm-quiet again. I could smile every once in a while, when no one was looking.

Mostly at school I was just silent. With WREX I could be boisterous even if I did have heart-slam pain moments of loss come and go, she understood.

[Note, from here on, any word that a dog understands will be all-caps. It's the way they hear the world. Some dogs get more than others, but they usually know BALL, FOOD, OUT, WALK, DINNER, TOY, FIND, GO, SIT, STAY, TREAT, etc.]

== Chapter: Washing Up ==

The summer after 4th grade, I was washing WREX in a kiddie pool in our backyard. A neighbor saw me, and asked if I could wash their dog, too.

I shrugged and agreed, and they said they'd double the money if I brushed her out when I was done. I'd quickly made TEN whole dollars!!!! It took an hour and I was soaked, but sure, it worked.

They made it a regular thing, and then another neighbor, and another, and so on.

After just a few weeks, people kept asking what my company name was, so I came up with 'Ablutions' which was the fanciest-sounding synonym for 'clean' or 'washed'.

I liked that it had sort-of religious overtones, too.

At first I just used the backyard kiddie pool but this was super messy. I went online and found tons of how-to videos and low-cost equipment setup ideas.

Our basement had a walk-out to the backyard (we were on a low hill), so over the years I kept improving things.

First I built a shower-area with cheap fiberglass tub surround and 2x4's, added a brushing and blow-out dryer area, and even a waiting area.

In the backyard, since people wanted to drop off and pick up at different times, I set up sort-of lockable kennels where I didn't have to be there.

My customers LOVED this, and my attention to detail and caring service, and over time I kept having just WAY too much business and I had to cap my hours (also, mom made me).

After a crazy lady made some wild accusations, I added a super-cheap video monitoring by a company based in Kazakhstan. Labor is cheap there, apparently, and by their adding timestamps for events, I could see any event I wanted to.

Happily, that lady and her ilk didn't cause more problems, but my customers liked the video surveillance for their well-loved pets.

I had tons of business, and we were near other rich suburbs so I didn't lack for high-end business, too. Rich people are great customers - they have super-expensive jobs and condos and didn't 'have time' to wash or brush their dogs. I made out like a bandit.

Online advice led me to open-source variable pricing software with first-cheapest / last-pricey, which gave me more free time and lots more money. I could also easily add services with high markups like 'expressing' anal-glands and toothbrushing / mouth-inspections. I didn't claim to be an expert dog-dentist, but I watched enough videos on common dog mouth problems that I actually found things. It was only an extra $2 as an add-on, easy cash since I'd look in their mouths anyway.

The anal-glands thing is stinky but once you're used to it, it's a 'yeah, whatever' thing that generates, you guessed it: Money!

During the summer I did dog training, too, and taught them - and their owners - some basics about being firmly consistent, emotionally honest, and excited-happy at successes. This made even more money because I could have 10 people in a class each paying $30 for 45 minutes (really an hour) of easy talking instead of wet-wrangling-brushing-mess. Yay at that, too!

During the school year I capped it at 2 hours MWF then all day Saturday. First-come regulars got the $39 time-slots, last-in and emergencies (an extra half-hour those days) paid triple rates and I could rake in cash.

Sometimes, working an extra hour would make me $150!

During the summer I could work 60+ hours a week (at much lower rates, though). It was tiring and active work - some dogs don't want to be washed or groomed or are just Loud, but I had airplane-runway level hearing protection as well as normal silicone earplugs, it was fine when I expected it.

The money just rolled in, and since most of it was pre-pay via the website, I didn't have to worry about them paying - I always felt weird asking for money.

After I got a driver's license, I used a hunk of my savings to buy a very used and somewhat banged-up cybertruck. Putting a topper on the back let me pick up and drop off, for another exorbitant fee (yay!).

Mom was confused how I had the money to do that, but I didn't drive that many kilometers so I knew I could resell the truck if I needed to at nearly the purchase price (they held their value really well).

I also liked that I was the only one at school who had one.

So...

This is my oddball amazing story, and even though it's so frankly incredible I wouldn't have believed it had anyone told me. I'm telling it anyway.

Bear with me, some of this makes no sense as it's happening, but in retrospect it's the only way things could have happened.

== Chapter: Canine Conversations ==

Now, as I mentioned, I talked to WREX, and I talked with the dogs I was grooming, too. It set a mood, it helped calm them, and it gave me something to do.

I'd talk a lot, mostly upbeat praising since scolding wasn't nearly as effective. I learned a lot from online videos, how to train them, and I'd do shaping behaviors to make my life easier and theirs, too. After a couple of sessions, most dogs got it, and did exactly what I needed, quickly, happily, and hopefully.

My real secret? FISH GUTS!!!

A fish-processing plant down near the docks kept me supplied with 5-gallon buckets of smelly fresh entrails for super-cheap.

Yes, we got a fridge for the basement. Well, I did, mom didn't have the money.

With those treats?!? OMG! My dogs were SO HAPPY! And, a happy dog is a Very Good Dog.

Over time, I sensed each dog's personality, and I'd talk to them presuming it. That meant they each had a voice-impression I'd do, a way of speaking for them. It's dumb, I know, but when I gave words to what they were doing, it had some kind of an accent or lilt or vocabulary.

People with pets know this, I think. Some of them do, at least.

When I'd talk to the dogs, I'd tell them what was happening in my life, what I was thinking and worried about, girls I wanted to date, in a pretty unbridled way since no one cares what you say to a dog (and almost all the time we were alone).

At least half of my customers were neighbors, total repeat customers, and they were respectful of me since I was the best grooming service around (they said), and dependable. I knew how to reliably remove skunk smell, and they liked my sweet weatherproof (I put a roof on our patio pergola) dropoff/pickup setup.

These neighbors were friends, too, and we'd talk before and after, when I could. I was a part of their lives, because they loved their dogs AND I loved their dogs, too - most of them, at least. They (the dogs) grew on me.

I did have a blacklist, though, because some pets and some owners were just Assholes, and I was a student so I could afford to fire a client. I was always nice about it and just said the dog and I were 'incompatible' - rare, but it happened.

So we come to the start of the strange things.

Sometimes I'd have a feeling, washing and trimming a dog, that something was Off with the dog. Sure, there'd be ticks and hotspots and tooth problems, that was normal.

The thing is, they'd be acting differently, or I'd just have a feeling about them, like a guess that something wasn't going right at their home. I know this sounds crazy, and I felt crazy at the time thinking it, too.

My guess was that there was some conflict at their house. I'd guess what it was, talking to the dog, and pretending they were answering.

Of course, when the owner came to pick the pet up, I'd chat with them and sometimes they'd volunteer that yes, there was something going on at home, or not. Frequently their lies were transparent, so I was pretty sure my guesses were improving.

My intuition got better and better. In fact, by my senior year in high school, I had a really uncanny way of knowing what was going on with those people. Not just the family tension stuff, but it was like I could imagine what was going on there.

I knew I could be imagining 99% of it, but then I'd find out I was right about something (even if it was sad or complicated). That was both fun and sad. I cared about these people and I didn't want to see troubles happen to anyone, or any animal (though usually it was the people in trouble).

I indulged this fantasy life since it didn't hurt anyone and it passed the time amiably with the dogs, who ReallyLikedThat, the Talking and Helping, while I worked.

So, yes, I laughed about it, but didn't really tell anyone either. Egads, who would believe me?!

Still, I understood what Deja Vu was - a brain processing fault where facts go into the wrong order, and afterwards you thought you had a premonition about stuff.

So, to check my math, I logged in a notebook what I'd imagined or 'learned' from the dogs, and laughed as I wrote because it was silly or not. Then, when I found out what really was happening, I wrote that, too.

Mostly these stories were, as I said, my rich fantasy life. I didn't pry too much since I didn't want to give customers a 'wacknuts groomer' idea.

In terms of the stories I'd "learn"? A lot of them surrounded my most interesting customers - the younger, 20's-aged women who worked in the tech sector and had condos in the upscale part of town.

As I got older, these women started looking at me more as a person they could confide in. After all, I loved the dog they loved. The 'transitive property of love' said they could trust me too.

This is my guess. I don't know why they started telling me their love-life stuff, they just did, and it was useful information on how girls thought and looked at the world.

Asking my mom sometimes about what they'd said, she usually validated my idea that a few of them had no sense of personal shame, a.k.a., boundary problems. We laughed, but I kept my mouth shut when the women would return, and my mom was trustworthy, too.

Somewhere around the start of senior year the stories the ladies told and what I'd guessed started lining up much more closely. This was very odd stuff indeed. I was firmly in the hard-science no-ghosts no-psi no-esp no-nothing camp, so I looked for a reason but couldn't find one.

Okay, YEAH, I know, I'm an oddball, fine. Doesn't matter - I had a good business, I was mostly sane and normal looking from the outside, and I kept my intuitions and ideas to myself (aside from asking leading questions of the ladies and just being a good listener).

Socially, dating-wise, I wasn't doing so well, and we kind-of had that in common.

I didn't have a girlfriend at the start of senior year, despite having turned 18 early in the summer and Really Wanting to get something going.

Sure, I'd gone out with several girls through high school, chaste dates only (damnit), but finally Sue Abernathy and I went on a few dates in the late summer. She was nice and we hit it off for about six weeks, a few weeks before school started, and about 2 weeks after.

Then, she broke it off.

Ug.

During this 'relationship', despite seeming like she wanted to get physical, every time I was rebuffed. The farthest we got was watching TV and kissing.

Now, for sure, kissing can be great, and kissing Sue was pretty nice, but I was Very Very Definitely Horny. I had a hope she could help with that, but instead I just had to come home from our dates and rub one out (or sometimes two) before I could get to sleep.

== Chapter: The Real Story Starts ==

So, one day 2 months after this - late October senior year - I got Dana Wilson's dog in. Dana was in track and cross-country running with me, and had been for years so we knew each other. She was really, really stuffy and proper, though, so we didn't talk much, though I was pretty sure it was her being generally shy so I didn't push it.

We did talk about running stuff sometimes, and at meets when hanging out, but there was always a barrier there. Generally, she was shy like I was, and I was highly confident that if I asked her out she'd immediately say no as an automatic reaction.

Her family dog, BOON, was a shepherd-retriever mix, very friendly and very smart (got himself in trouble several times managing to open their back gate latch until they put in a second latch).

That day after Dana dropped BOON off and left, I got him washed, but as I was trimming him I started telling him about how bad my situation was. "Your girl DANA is really PRETTY, and SMART, too!"

I'd observed Dana. This was like saying the sky was blue. Dana was wow-pretty. More than that, she was doubly worth watching since despite not being the fastest, she always put in the effort. I respected that and cheered her on, maybe a little louder than for the others.

Every time I talked with BOON, I talked about how much I liked DANA, and her sister TALIA, too. I told him about how I liked to watch her run, and how beautifully TALIA sings, and lots of things I noticed.

On this day, though, I was more explicit than normal. I was, as I said, horny. No one was there, it was fine, I could say what I wanted.

"Yes! DANA WORKS HARD, yes she does! She RUNS FAST. And she LOVES you. DANA is a GOOD GIRL! She's Fun. She knows lots of things! She LOVES RUNNING - taking WALKS, right? WALKS!" [bark]. "DANA LOVES BOOON, too!"

I was wondering. Could I actually ask Dana out sometime?

"DANA might LOVE me, too? I Hope so! I do! I want DANA to LOVE ME! DANA LOVES KEVIN!" I was dreaming, giving voice to a state of being I wanted to be in.

Not realistic. BOON didn't care.

BOON was living his best life, and actually liked being brushed out (he got TREATS, so of course he did!).

I went on, getting his coat all combed out, which always takes a while, and my imagination got the best of me. I kept going. "Everyone knows, DANA is a GOOD GIRL. DANA does GOOD things. I like DANA a lot, yes I do! KEVIN loves Dana! She's really SEXY to me. SEXY DANA! I think Dana should SPEAK to me. DANA and I should EAT FOOD. FOOD TOGETHER, oh, YES, and do KISSES and HUGS!"

BOON knew the word KISSES. He licked my face. Occupational hazard.

Dogs, as I said, have a limited vocabulary, and limited interests. You can talk about smells, and food, and running, and fetching balls, and licking balls, and sex, but it took some translation sometimes. Simple objects, simple actions, simple emotions, I think they got those the easiest.

BOON knew his name. He knew DANA and PHONE and KEVIN and FOOD, maybe SEXY, but it was hard to know. His ears were up, he liked what we were doing.

He was all in.

I laughed and he happily drooped his tongue out, relaxed, and leaned into the brushing, like, MMmmm, MOAR....

I went on. "I think Dana should give me FOOD, and then do SEX with ME, and give me LICKS, and LOVE ME forever. DANA LOVES KEVIN, and DANA LOVES BOON, forever! Oh, YES she can! Romance, for KEVIN and DANA!"

This got Boon looking at me with a cocked head like, "Whut?"

I laughed, and got inspired that the question could just as well be, 'who' since Dana had an older sister Talia. Talia was really Natalie. She'd been in chorus and madrigals with me and we knew each other pretty well.

Talia was... achingly, too much - too good, too pretty, almost. Fantasy material. I didn't regard it as realistic, but it was fun to just randomly include her. I said, "And, I could GIVE KISSES to TALIA, too! TALIA KISSES KEVIN!"

The idea of Talia being interested in me was beyond reasonable, she was way too good looking and I was still in the realm of normal guys. Still, it had been a frequent stroke fantasy since we knew each other pretty well from madrigals.

She also had been in the brainy crowd. I was, too, but in a different way and I was pretty sure she was smarter than me, which added quite a lot to both sexiness and it being too unrealistic to hope for.

Still, I went on, picturing her. If I'd have been a dog I would have been salivating. "TALIA should LOVE KEVIN, too! Yes she should! Forever! Then, it would be TALIA AND DANA in KEVIN's PACK! Yes! GOOD PACK! PACK, OF DANA and KEVIN! RUN and PLAY together, DANA and TALIA and KEVIN, oh boy! FUN!"

Boon barked in an assent, "Yay!" for me, and we laughed together.

I went on and described (trimming out paw pads) how I was an ideal mate for both of them, I had a good job, I was a SMART-BOY (his terms), I knew how to LICK (an exaggeration, I'd seen a lot of porn videos) and make SEX and I would GIVE them FOOD, too, since I would LOVE them back. And, they would GIVE KEVIN FOOD, too!