Page 41 of Nanny for the Athletes

“Sure you can. Just a little squirt of shampoo, then you’re all done. I bet you can do that.”

“But what if he bites me?”

“Rocco is averygood boy,” I said. “I promise he won’t bite you. But he might lick you.”

“Eww.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t lick you, either,” I said. “Go on. I only need a little bit of shampoo. Real quick!”

Claire took a tiny step forward, then another. She extended the bottle of shampoo as far out as her arm would hold it, then squeezed out a big dollop of purple shampoo onto Rocco’s back.

“It smells fruity,” she said.

“It’s plum flavored! But don’t eat it!”

That got a smile out of her.

“Perfect!” I said as she put the shampoo bottle back down. “Thank you so much for helping me. I don’t knowwhatI would have done if you weren’t here.”

Rather than return to her chair, Claire watched me work on Rocco up close. And when it was time to rinse him off, I convinced her to grab the shower handle and pour water all over him. She even laughed when Rocco shook his body and sprayed water everywhere.

When Rocco was clean, I dried him off and unclipped him from the harness. He jumped off the table and wagged his tail while circling Claire, who no longer seemed afraid.

“See? Dogs are nice!” I said.

“This one is nice,” she admitted.

“What about your dad’s dogs? They’re nice, too.”

“Logan’sdogs are loud.” Claire made sure to emphasize his name. “They give me a headache.”

“They can be loudandnice,” I explained.

“Maybe,” she replied skeptically.

Claire helped me with the next dog, too. While we worked, I asked her small probing questions. She didn’t know what happened to her mom. She met Logan for the first time at her mom’s funeral. Her mom had been adamantly against pets in her house, which probably explained why Claire was so cautious around them. She also told me that she liked playing outside more than inside.

When the last dog was bathed, I told Claire, “I need your help with something else,” and led her out into the field. She followed without protest about being near all the other dogs. Sometimes fears were only real when you acknowledged them. Two dogs came running over to us, but then peeled off and went sprinting out into the field again.

“What’s she doing?” Claire asked, pointing.

“Suzie is poop scooping.”

Claire giggled. “That’s silly.”

“It is silly. But it’s something we have to do twice a day.”

“Can I help?”

“Sure!” I quickly retrieved the second poop scoop and bucket. “You have to get all of it, until the field is perfectly clean. It’s like an Easter egg hunt, but with dog poop instead of eggs.”

Claire frowned up at me. “What’s an Easter egg hunt?”

“You know. When you run around looking for eggs. From the Easter bunny.”

She scrunched up her face. “That’s dumb. Bunnies don’t lay eggs.”

“Yeah, no, I mean…” I laughed nervously. “Have you really never heard of the Easter bunny?”

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