Dog Training The American Male Part 27

"Fine." Jacob followed Cyril up the steep wooden steps to the landing.

"The master bedroom is at the end of the hall, go and take a look. I need to use the little boy's room."

Jacob waited for Cyril to shut the bathroom door before he walked down the hall to the master bedroom, feeling a bit lightheaded from the bourbon. He pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Gray carpet, pink throw pillows. A white comforter covered the queen-size bed; a framed painting hung on the wall above the headboard-two naked men kissing.

"Yuck." Looking closer, Jacob realized it was a paint-by-numbers canvas.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

Jacob turned to find Cyril clad in a leather dominatrix slave outfit, his groin concealed behind a black thong, his nipple rings trailing matching straps. "Don't be nervous-"

"Oh . . . G.o.d."

"Jacob?"

"Get away from that door."

Cyril locked it. "I want to say something first."

"Jesus Christ . . ."

"If you don't want to sleep with me now, I want you to know you can call me up any time you want and we'll make some kind of arrangement."

"Let me out."

"I find you very attractive. I also wanted you to know that . . . well; I'm part of the wager."

"Wait . . . what?"

"The wager between Ruby and Olivia? I'm part of it."

"You set me up? For this?"

"Yes. But if you sleep with me, I'll split the winnings with you."

A car pulled into the driveway, screeching to a halt.

"Oh, G.o.d, that's him!" Jacob pushed his way past Cyril, unlocked the bedroom door, and sprinted down the stairs as Cyril's boyfriend, Greg entered.

"Hey, Cyril, is that the s...o...b.. Doo mobile out front?"

Jacob squeezed past the leather-clad biker and raced out the door.

DOG TRAINING THE AMERICAN MALE.

LESSON ELEVEN: SCENT TRAINING.

Spencer Botchin sat at his client's kitchen table, perplexed. "Nancy, if you tell me why you wish to train Sam to discriminate between scents, it would make my job a lot easier."

"If you must know, I want to make sure my boyfriend's not sleeping with his manager."

"I see." Spencer nodded, still a bit apprehensive. "Well then, we'll need an article of clothing or a personal belonging that carries the, uh, scent of the suspected female. You don't happen to have-"

"I do." Nancy reached inside her handbag and removed a plastic zip-lock freezer bag containing a pair of women's thong underwear. "They're fresh. Courtesy of a friend who works in the doctor's office the b.i.t.c.h frequents for her weekly l.a.b.i.a tightening and b.o.o.b enhancements and whatever the h.e.l.l else she does to keep from looking her age."

Spencer inspected the undies. "The average human sheds thousands of skin cells every day, each cell carrying our own particular scent. What we're doing is training the dog to isolate one scent above another, in this case, the stench of this rival female on your boyfriend. To do that, we must first condition the dog so it realizes that making the right choice will result in a reward."

"Wait . . . am I conditioning my boyfriend to make the right choices, or the dog?" Nancy's cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID. "Would you excuse me a moment?"

"Of course." Spencer waited until she walked away before opening the zip-lock bag. The English gentleman stuck his nose inside, inhaling deeply. "Ahh . . . Caswell-Ma.s.sey Lilac skin cream . . . my favorite."

Nancy took the call from her radio producer in her bedroom. "Trish, what's up?"

"That big W.O.M.B. party set for next Thursday afternoon? I just found out Olivia Cabot will be there. Soderblom too."

Nancy's heart pounded in her chest. "You think they've made their decision about the show?"

"The word around here is that they're still on the fence. Which means Thursday's meeting could be what decides whether we have a job next month. Lean in, baby!"

"I will. Thanks." She returned to Spencer, who was rubbing Ruby Kleinhenz's thong undies over six magazines. The dog trainer spread them out on the kitchen floor, then slid open the back door and called for Sam.

The German Shepherd hurried to him, tucking its tail as it recognized the Alpha male.

"Alrighty then, Nancy. These six similar objects now carry the suspected home-wrecker's p.u.b.escent stench. In step one of our scent training, Sam will smell the undergarment, then be given the 'seek' command. Every time he goes to a magazine he'll be praised. In step two we'll repeat the exercise, having exchanged a scented magazine for an unscented one. We'll continue the drill, swapping a scented magazine for an unscented one until only one scented magazine remains. Depending upon Sam's progress, we'll then scent and hide a different object with the wh.o.r.e's stink trail on it, preparing him for the moment when you ultimately put Sam onto your boyfriend's scent trail -- the dog determining if there is a match."

AT PRECISELY 5:57 p.m., Jacob Cope returned home, having spent the last few hours guzzling coffee at a local donut shop. Regaining his sobriety, he had changed back into his shorts, tossing the wet bathing suit and towel in the donut shop's dumpster-his mind fantasizing about the afternoon that might have been with Ruby and Olivia Cabot.

"Nancy, I'm home."

He placed the newspaper on the shelf by the hall mirror and carefully removed his wiped-clean sandals, depositing them in the bedroom closet on their designated shoe tree branch. His bladder ready to burst, he headed for the master bathroom, lifted the lid and seat and urinated. Wiped the rim with toilet paper and flushed. Rinsed his hands. Bypa.s.sing the neatly-folded hand towel on the rack, he used his shirt to dry his hands, thus maintaining the high performance score required for what he called 'spontaneous s.e.x.'

Nancy was waiting for him in the bedroom when he emerged. "Shoes in their proper place, towel not destroyed . . . I'm impressed. How was work?"

"Stressful. I need to unwind."

"By unwind, you mean s.e.x."

"s.e.x? Sure, I suppose s.e.x would relieve my stress, but more importantly it would allow me to express the overabundance of love that I feel for you at this very moment."

"Yeah, yeah. Get naked, cowboy, we'll have a quickie."

"Works for me!" Jacob stripped in four seconds flat.

Nancy carefully removed her skirt and blouse. "Wait, you didn't say hi to your best friend. Sam, come!"

The German Shepherd came bounding into the bedroom.

"Hey, boy, how are ya!"

"Sam, seek!"

Sam's demeanor suddenly changed, the dog sniffing at Jacob's legs, feet, and t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es.

"Whoa, easy boy, I need those."

Satisfied with Jacob, the German Shepherd sniffed the pile of clothes. Finding nothing, the dog left the bedroom to search the rest of the house.

"Seek?"

"Affection. It's important to hug your dog every day."

"And your s.e.xy girlfriend." Jacob attacked Nancy, growling like a bear.

Nancy intercepted him with a pa.s.sionate kiss, her hands groping his groin as she slowly dropped to her knees, kissing and inhaling his scent.

Jacob's eyes fluttered as she reached his hard-on.

"Chlorine?"

"Huh?"

"You smell like chlorine."

"I do?"

"Were you swimming today?"

"Swimming? I . . . no, I wasn't swimming. Why would I be swimming? That's crazy."

"Then why do you smell like chlorine? Normally when you come home you smell like onions."

Confess, lie, or deny-which one offers the best chance of still getting laid? "Wait, I know what it is. I went to the gym after work to check out a trial membership. While I was there I used the steam room."

"The steam room?"

"My lower back was killing me; I thought it might loosen things up. I was all sweaty after that so I took a shower. I didn't have any soap, so yeah; I probably do smell like chlorine."

"That makes sense. Which gym?"

Jacob's hard-on shriveled into something resembling a large chickpea and two Fava beans. "Which gym? The one on the drive home from work."

Nancy eyeballed him, suddenly suspicious. "L.A. Fitness?"

"No. The other one."

"Gorilla Workout?"

"Maybe."

"How 'bout I call them to see if they registered you as a guest?"

"I wasn't a guest guest, I didn't work out or anything. I sort of snuck in."

"To use the steam room?"

"Exactly. Then I took a quick shower. It was spontaneous."

She located her clothes, getting dressed.

"Nance, what are you doing?"

"Suddenly I don't feel so spontaneous."

"Aw, come on-for real?"

"Tell me the truth, or it'll be a dog year before we have s.e.x again."

"Fine. I got laid off."

"Jacob . . . when?"

"Last week."

"Then every day you left the house for work-you were lying to me?"

"It's just temporary. Hopefully I'll work again on Monday, but Mr. Patel said I'd have to switch to doing customer service calls on the road. I have to dress professionally, which means I need to buy dress shoes, which I don't have the money for."

"But you hate going into strangers' homes."

"I know. But we need the money. Which is why I went swimming this afternoon."

"You were at Ruby's, weren't you?"

"No. I was at some mansion in Ma.n.a.lapan, trying out for a gig that pays five grand. I got the job; only the owner invited me to stay for lunch and a swim. Nothing happened; I didn't even stay for lunch. But I did jump in the pool."

"Naked?"

"No. The owner lent me a bathing suit."

"When's the gig?"

"Next Friday night."

"Does it pay well?"