Dog Wash

In the name of research, I took Louie to a dog wash today. He's fine getting bathed in our shower, but there's a dog wash in my latest story, and I needed to see one first-hand. I'd spent the morning cutting off all his hair, which didn't put him in the best of moods. But then we drove to the dog wash and once in the tub, it was like he was shell-shocked. Shaking, trying to get out, he was a mess and I felt guilty for making my dog suffer so I could write some dumb story. The barking dogs in the kennel next door didn't help, either. I'd gone to the dog wash wanting to soak up its nuances--its tear-free shampoo and crazy-delirious gold retrievers. But Louie was so terrified I got him in, bathed (with only a minor dry), and out.